Hogan's Heroes: Only We Can Do That
by Basketballgirl Kaitlin
Summary: When a lieutenant is brought to Stalag 13, it's learned that it's Carter's old commanding officer, and he turns out to be less than pleasant. The lieutenant starts his tormenting on the young sergeant once again, until Hogan steps in and stops it. Feeling threatened, Walters begins making plans to get rid of the American colonel...permanently!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

It was a nice morning in May at Stalag 13. The sun was up in the sky and there was barely a cloud around. While the rest of the prisoners were outside playing sports or socializing with one another, four men remained inside barracks two. Newkirk, Carter, Kinch, and LeBeau were in the main area hanging out and waiting for their commanding officer and friend, Colonel Robert Hogan, to come back from a meeting with Kommandant Wilhelm Klink.

LeBeau was cooking something, and Newkirk, Carter, and Kinch were playing a game of gin talking with one another. Things had been very quiet for the five recently, and it was starting to get boring around camp. Most of the missions they had been assigned recently were just meeting with others from the underground and gathering information from them to send to London.

Carter was thinking carefully on what his next move would be. He spent about six minutes just looking at his hand then at the cards in the middle of the table. He eventually went back to his hand and repeated the same process about four times. By that moment, Newkirk was starting to grow irritated.

"Andrew, would ya bloody do something already? By the time you make a move, the ruddy war'll be over!" Newkirk snapped.

"Gee! Sorry...trying to win here," Carter said, somewhat offended. He put a random card down on the table to satisfy Newkirk.

Kinch chuckled while smiling at the younger sergeant.

"Oh, Carter. What would we do without you?" Kinch asked.

"What do you mean? Are you guys getting rid of me?!" Carter asked, frightened.

Newkirk shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Blimey, Andrew. You take things _far_ too seriously sometimes," the English corporal said.

"I didn't mean it literally, Carter. No one's gonna get rid of you," Kinch said.

" _Oui, mon ami_ ," LeBeau said, walking over to them. "I mean, you can sometimes be a bit of a nuisance, but we could never part with you."

"Besides," Kinch continued. "Who would we have to pick on if you weren't around?"

All of them but Carter laughed.

"Oh, real funny, guys. Real funny," Carter said. He kept his head down and studied his cards, though he could practically feel the others' eyes burning him. The hot feeling spread to his cheeks, and he raised his cards higher, hoping no one would notice and haggle him for _blushing_ or something, too. They already had enough ammunition to use. How he wished Hogan would hurry up and get back.

* * *

"And that is why," Klink continued as he paced his office. "From now on, _if_ one of the prisoners are out of line anymore at evening roll call, they will serve thirty days in the cooler, followed by one _month_ of banned recreational periods, and _four_ days being my personal servant. Do you understand, Colonel Hogan?" The Luftwaffe colonel looked at Hogan, who was sitting in the chair in front of Klink's desk, to make sure he was paying attention.

"Don't you think you're being a bit unfair, Kommandant? Four days of being a servant and a month of banned recreational periods seems like an awful lot." Hogan protested.

"How will I get the men to listen to me if I'm soft with them, Hogan? Threaten them with hugs and kisses?" Klink blathered.

"Well, _that_ , would certainly be entertaining," Hogan said, holding back a chuckle.

Klink snapped his head back and looked at him in offended rage.

"This is serious, Hogan! I will not let anymore of your men start a ruckus during evening roll call. If it shall continue, I will blame _you_ personally and then _you_ will be serving the punishment. Do I make myself clear, Hogan?" Klink hissed.

"Yes, Kommandant," Hogan said back, smug while glaring at him.

"Good, now get out of my office! I have several papers to go through that must be sent to Berlin at once."

"Is your favorite general coming for a visit, Kommandant?"

"Hogan!" Klink shouted shaking his fist. "You leave General Burkhalter out of this!"

"Yes, sir, Kommandant. May I go now?"

"Please! And take your witty comments with you!"

Hogan rose from his chair and walked towards Klink's door. He turned the knob and was about to leave, when he decided to turn back to look at Klink.

"Oh, Kommandant," Hogan said.

"What, Hogan?" Klink moaned.

"When you see General Burkhalter, tell him to tell Old Bubblehead I say 'hi'." Hogan answered, with a grin.

"OUT!" Klink shouted.

Hogan saluted sloppily and headed back for the barracks. Once inside, Carter turned to him immediately and looked sad.

"Carter, what's wrong?" Hogan asked, concerned.

"Colonel...I'm more than just someone to make fun of, right?" The young sergeant asked meekly.

"Of course you are, Carter. You know we pick on you just to be silly, right?" Hogan sat down besides Carter and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"I know...it's just...I don't know...sometimes I wish I were more like Newkirk and Kinch."

"Another _me_?!" Newkirk cried. "Oh, Andrew. If there were two of me, this whole _camp_ would bloody fall apart."

"I have my flaws, too, Carter. I mean who else do you know that's an organizing monster?" Kinch asked.

"And me, André," LeBeau said. "Sometimes I can get a bit carried away with emotions."

"Yeah, and ya snore horribly, too," Newkirk remarked.

"Hey!" LeBeau cried.

All five of them started laughing at that. Once Hogan stopped laughing, he turned to look at Carter again.

"Even _I_ have things to be laughed at, too, Carter," Hogan said, smiling.

"Not _you_ , Colonel. You're the best guy I know," Carter said, proud.

" _Oui_ , Colonel. There isn't one single flaw about you!" LeBeau spoke, gratified.

"Goes for me as well, Gov'nor." Newkirk added.

"Best commanding officer _I've_ ever seen," Kinch said.

"And best friend," Carter said.

Hogan chuckled and blushed. All the compliments were making him slightly embarrassed.

"Well thanks, guys. Means a lot to me," he said.

"No problem, Colonel," Carter said.

"Colonel, are you hungry? I made your favorite for lunch." LeBeau admired the smell coming from his cooking pot.

"Please tell me it's none of that fish stew again, Louis." Newkirk groaned.

The little Frenchman glared at Newkirk.

" _Non_ , it's mac and cheese, Pierre. Unless you don't like _that_ either."

"Give me a big bowl, LeBeau. I'm starved," Hogan said, patting his belly.

"Mac and cheese!" Newkirk exclaimed. "What the bloody hell happened to your 'gourmet meals'?"

"You don't like them, so I decided on making something more common." LeBeau hissed.

"Alright, enough, _both_ of you. I swear to God you two act like a married couple sometimes," Kinch said, chuckling.

"Marry him?! I'd rather marry _Klink_ before that happened!" LeBeau protested.

" _Blimey_ , I'm not _that_ bad!"

All five of them started laughing, when the door to barracks two opened, and Baker walked inside.

"Gestapo car just pulled in, Colonel. Major Hochstetter's here with two of his men and what appears to be an American officer," Baker reported.

"An American _officer_ ," Hogan said, surprised.

"What rank?" Newkirk asked.

"I couldn't tell from where I was standing. I saw him for a brief moment only, but it's without a doubt an American officer from the US Army Air Force." Baker answered.

Hogan turned to look at his men and raised an eyebrow.

"Gentlemen, care for some coffee?" Hogan asked.

"I could go for a cup," Newkirk said, rising to his feet.

"Count me in, Colonel," Kinch said.

Carter got to his feet and followed Kinch and Newkirk to Hogan's quarters. Hogan rose and was followed by LeBeau, when the American colonel stopped the little Frenchman.

"Get me an _actual_ cup of coffee, would you, LeBeau?" Hogan asked.

"Right away, Colonel," LeBeau said, eager and hurried to grab his commanding officer what he requested.

Smiling, Hogan entered his quarters just as Kinch was turning on the coffee pot. Carter was sitting in Hogan's chair, Kinch stood by the window, and Newkirk stood beside Hogan, as he walked up behind Carter and put a hand gently on the young sergeant's shoulder.

"Anything so far, Kinch?" Hogan asked.

"Nothing, Colonel. I think Major Hochstetter just walked into Klink's office."

LeBeau walked in and stood to Hogan's left handing him his cup of coffee. Hogan gratefully took it and took a sip, when a familiar voice was heard. It sounded shaky and worried.

" _Major Hochstetter, welcome to Stalag 13_!" Klink greeted with faux cheeriness and fear.

" _Shut up, Klink_ ," Hochstetter ordered.

" _Yes, sir. Shutting up and listening_."

* * *

"Major Hochstetter, how can I assist both you and your men today? Who's that?" Klink asked, pointing to the American officer.

The man was as tall as Hogan, had light brown hair and bright blue eyes that burned into Klink's soul. He was slim and much thinner than Hogan was. To Klink, Hogan looked friendly and someone that would be willing to help anyone at an instance, as his personality was known well to the kommandant. _This_ man, however, looked like he would strangle anyone at any given moment just for looking at him for too long. He was handcuffed, but even _that_ did not ease Klink. He was silent and did not move once. He stared coldly at Klink, then Hochstetter, then Klink again. It made the old German colonel swallow a knot down his throat.

"Major Hochstetter, who is he?" Klink trembled.

"I don't know, Klink. He would not answer any of our questions on the way here. Berlin thought taking him to the toughest POW camp in all of Germany would change his mind." Hochstetter snarled at the American.

The American's eyes flickered for a moment and looked harshly at the Gestapo major then returned his eyes back to Klink.

"Major, if you would sit our guest in the chair in front of my desk, please?" Klink spoke, with courtesy.

Hochstetter shoved the American forward who snapped a harsh glare back at the Gestapo officer. As a result, the American found a gun pointed at the back of his skull by one of Hochstetter's men. He looked similar to the American, but his eyes were dark brown, almost black even.

The American finally reached the chair and sat down, but not without first kicking Klink in the shin. The old Kommandant whelped and grabbed his right leg and rubbed it tenderly for a moment before lowering his gaze fearfully at the man. The American was looking at him with pure hatred. He hated Hochstetter, he hated Klink, he hated the two Gestapo men, he hated the entire _camp_!

Klink sat down on the front of his desk and fixed his eyes closely on the American. He did not like this man as much as he did not like him. Klink wanted to slap him for his arrogant and disrespectful behavior, but at the same time the man terrified him, too.

"Alright, Mister," Klink said crossing his arms. "Who are you?"

The American refused to answer. He just continued watching Klink, wishing for him to drop dead.

"Sir, I'm the Kommandant of this camp, and you will answer my questions at once," Klink ordered.

Nothing.

Hochstetter lowered his face to the American and snarled at him.

"You'll answer Kommandant Klink's questions, or you will answer to mine!" Hochstetter hissed.

"You don't scare me, Nazi swine!" The American snapped.

"Sir, you will _not_ speak in such a way to Major Hochstetter or anyone of the Gestapo," Klink warned harshly.

"I got him, Klink," Hochstetter said annoyed. He looked back at the bratty American, who he just wanted to shoot in the head. "Now, who are you and if you refuse to answer, I will have my men get the answer out of you with... _interesting_ methods of questioning."

Klink gulped without Hochstetter seeing him. Even though he could not stand the man, he really did not want to witness him be tortured in order for him to talk. He returned his gaze from Hochstetter to the young American.

"My name is Lieutenant Dick Walters. Serial number R9467705," he finally spoke.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Forgot to put this as the header in chapter one! Huge shout out to my friend, who beta worked this entire story! You the real MVP! Alright, I'm gonna be quiet now. Enjoy! :D

* * *

 **Chapter 2:**

Carter's face paled as soon as the man said his name. He looked like he had just seen a banshee pass by and threatened to take his soul. Kinch noticed the discomfort his friend seemed to be suffering from.

"Carter, are you alright, kid?" Kinch asked, worried.

The young sergeant simply swallowed a knot forming in his throat and continued looking fixed in the direction he was facing.

Newkirk and LeBeau looked and now grew concerned themselves.

"Andrew, what's wrong, mate?" Newkirk questioned.

"You look like you just saw _un fantôme_ ," LeBeau said.

Hogan walked over to Carter's side and put a hand gently on his arm, right after kneeling down to be eye level with the young man.

"Carter, what's wrong?" Hogan asked.

Carter turned to Hogan with his eyes pleading for mercy.

"Colonel...tell me they didn't say what they just said!"

"You know the bloke, Andrew?" Newkirk asked, surprised.

"He was my old commanding officer, before I was captured and taken here to Stalag 13." Carter answered.

"Why do you look so terrified, then? You should be glad to see your old commanding officer again," Hogan said softly.

"Colonel, I don't _wanna_ see him! I don't _ever_ wanna see him! Don't let him stay here, Colonel, please!" Carter practically begged.

"Carter...what's wrong?" Hogan looked directly into Carter's eyes. They were filled with true terror and horror just thinking of the man. "What did he do that you're so terrified of him for?"

Carter did not answer. He simply just shook his head, as if he could not come to accept what was happening.

Hogan turned to look at Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau.

"Kinch, keep listening in with Newkirk and LeBeau. Let me know if anything important comes up," Hogan ordered.

"Yes, sir," Kinch said.

Hogan helped Carter to his feet, escorted the young sergeant out of his quarters, and to the table in the main area. Both sat down and neither one said anything for a minute. Hogan sighed and finally looked at Carter. He saw the fear evident in his eyes. He had never seen his demolitions expert so frightened before in his life besides the times Hogan had gotten sick or hurt.

"Carter, what's going on here? You can tell me. I won't judge," Hogan said, caring.

"Colonel, make him go away. _Please_ make him go away." Carter quivered, fighting back from crying.

"What did he do to you, Carter? I need to know to help you."

Carter was silent for a moment. He looked both ways, then behind him, and finally back to Hogan.

"Colonel...he's a bad man...a _very_ bad man. He's made fun of me time and time again...I was always terrified to tell him to knock it off...he's hit several of his men in command." He began.

"He's hit his own men?" Hogan gasped.

"That's only part of it, Colonel...he...Colonel, he's _killed_ people...people in his own command. Sometimes he doesn't even have a reason for doing it. He just _does_."

"He's killed his own men!"

"Colonel, what if he tries to kill you? What if he hurts Kinch? Louis! Newkirk!"

Hogan put a hand on his shoulder.

"No one's gonna get hurt and no one's gonna get killed. I promise, Carter," he said. Hogan's blood was beginning to boil. He was disgusted with such a man. What kinda man killed, hit, and verbally abused the ones in his own command? Hogan would never, _ever_ , try to hurt one of his men: verbally or physically. He did not believe in violence unless it was in self defense to protect one's self or another person with them. It was one of the many things he hated about Adolf Hitler and his dictatorship of the Third Reich. He could not stand violence. It made him ill just to think of such cruel acts. "Carter, I promise, I won't let that man lay a single hand on you, Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, or anyone else. He'll have hell to pay before doing so."

"What about you, Colonel?" Carter worried.

"I'll be alright. I can protect myself," Hogan said, reassuring.

"Colonel, no! He'll kill you, please! I can't live with myself if something happens to you!"

Hogan smiled and patted Carter's shoulder.

"Nothing's gonna happen to me. I promise, Carter," he said.

"You promise?"

Hogan nodded.

"I do," he said.

Carter gave a small smile and nodded. If anyone could help him, without a doubt, it was Colonel Hogan.

The door to the American officer's quarters opened, and Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau walked over to Hogan and Carter.

"Is he all right, Colonel?" LeBeau asked, worried.

Hogan grinned at the little Frenchman.

"He'll be just fine, LeBeau." He then sighed. "Just that this old commanding officer of Carter's is not exactly someone of sunshine and rainbows."

"By the look Carter had on his face, I'm surprised he doesn't have nightmares about the man," Newkirk remarked.

"What did he do to you anyways, Carter?" Kinch asked, crossing his arms.

Carter looked at Hogan, then back to his friends.

"I don't really wanna talk about it...it kinda gives me nightmares still." The young sergeant answered meekly.

Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau turned to look at one another, then back at Hogan and Carter.

"Well...we don't have much good news for you two," Kinch said, sighing.

Hogan got to his feet and looked at Kinch incredulously.

"Why is that?" Hogan asked.

As if on cue, the door to barracks two opened. Hochstetter with his two men, Klink, and Walters walked into the main area.

" _That's_ why," Kinch softly said, pointing behind the colonel.

Hogan and Carter turned around to see who was there. Seeing his late commanding officer, Carter leaped from his seat and latched onto Hogan's arm tightly. Hogan turned to look at Carter for a moment, patted his arm gently, then returned his gaze to that of Walters's.

"Kommandant, don't you think it's a little too early for visitors?" Hogan asked, giving a slight grin.

"Hogan, this is the newest edition to Stalag 13. A lieutenant from your own army, might I say." Klink answered, displaying his new prisoner.

Hogan looked him up and down, then back up again and nodded.

"He seems alright, what do you guys think?" He asked, turning to his men.

"Meh," Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau all said in response.

Carter held Hogan's arm a bit tighter. He felt letting go of his commanding officer for a moment would put him right back into his old commander's harm within an instant.

Walters looked at the three behind Hogan, then at the commanding officer himself, and finally set his eyes on Carter. He gave an evil smile to him, making the young sergeant wilt under his eyes.

"Well hey, Rat! How's it going?" Walters called.

Carter shivered and hid his face in Hogan's arm. Hogan glanced with his eyes quick at Carter, then returned and fixed them on Walters. He did not like this man at all. He refused to let him get as so much as one finger on one of his men. He would kill before that happened.

"I hope you will welcome him and treat him as anyone else in this camp," Klink continued.

"Just as long as he remembers who's in charge around here, there shouldn't be any problems." Hogan answered. He stared at the lieutenant, giving him a silent warning.

Walters ground his jaw while looking back into Hogan's eyes. He strongly disapproved of the man and would let him know to back off, when they finally got to be alone.

"Lieutenant Walters, Colonel Hogan is the Senior POW Officer, so any complaints will go to him and then to me. If you have any questions, just ask him," Klink said.

"No questions, Kommandant...just a few things to say," Walters said coldly.

Hogan stared him down, showing he was not afraid of him or his cheap threats.

Klink and Hochstetter left the barracks with Hochstetter's two men following him. It left the six men to themselves. At first, no words were exchanged between any of them. The other men were watching in silence, wondering what was about to take place. It was then that Hogan lightly shoved Carter off of him, pushed him to be behind him, then approached closer to the lieutenant with a cold look in his eyes.

"I don't know what you did to Carter, but you better keep your dirty hands off of him- and that goes for _all_ of my men, got it?" Hogan snarled.

"You don't scare me, weakling," Walters bit back harshly.

"Why you no good…" Newkirk was stopped by Kinch's arm and a firm look from the sergeant that told him to stay put.

Carter hid behind Newkirk's left side, trying to keep out of his old commanding officer's sight. The last thing he wanted was for a confrontation between the two of them to occur.

Walters glared back at Newkirk, then again at Hogan.

"Your Englander know what a thing called manners are, or does he always butt into everyone else's business?" The lieutenant hissed.

"What my men do and act like is _my_ responsibility, not yours," Hogan shot back.

"Well, they better not act like that around _me_. Unlike you, my men will treat me with respect!"

"They're _my_ men, and you better remember that piece of information carefully! I'll have Klink put you in the cooler, if you refuse to follow my direct orders otherwise!"

"Ha! That man couldn't scare me if you made his eyes glow red! He's as stupid as that Gestapo major that was with him!"

"Major Hochstetter isn't someone to mess with, Lieutenant. He's not as stupid as you think he is. He _will_ find a way to punish you severely regards to anyone's orders, if you go around and mess with him."

"None of those Nazi pigs scare me and neither do _you_!"

Hogan grit his teeth and exhaled to keep himself from losing his temper in front of his men.

"Now where do I sleep?" Walters finally asked coldly.

"How about in Gestapo Headquarters?" Suggested LeBeau, softly to Kinch.

Kinch nodded, glaring at the man. None of Hogan's men were growing fond of the idea of sharing a barracks with Carter's old commander.

"You'll sleep in that vacant bunk in the back. Gives you a nice view of camp. Private Jones sleeps on top." Hogan answered, smug. He wrapped his arms around himself and watched Walters carefully.

"Fine," Walters replied in the same tone. He stormed over to his bunk, after pushing Hogan lightly to the side walking past him. The American colonel brushed his left shoulder off, as if Walters had left dirt on his leather jacket.

Carter hung his head and walked sadly into Hogan's room.

Hogan looked over to where Carter had disappeared and followed after him. Newkirk, LeBeau, and Kinch followed Hogan from behind into the small room. When the colonel entered his quarters, he found Carter sitting in his chair and looking down in his lap. His face looked depressed and saddened.

"Carter," Hogan said softly. "What's wrong?"

"It's all my fault, Colonel. Had it not been for me, Lieutenant Walters wouldn't even be here," Carter sadly said.

"Andrew, that miserable bloke isn't here because of you. He wants you to think that to give him some personal gain around here." Newkirk answered, crossing his arms.

" _Oui, mon ami_. He's just looking for ways to knock you off your feet." LeBeau added.

"What do we do, Colonel? We've gotta get rid of him." Carter pleaded.

"I know, Carter. I'm thinking of something," Hogan gently said. He wanted the man as far away from Carter and the rest of his men as possible. He was a threat to them, the camp, the operation, even to Klink. He could not allow some psycho who harmed men on occasion for no apparent reason walk around this camp. He had to get rid of him, but how?

"What if you reported what Carter told you to the Kommandant, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"NO!" Carter yelped.

Hogan shot his head around and made his way to the young man. He gently put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him concerned.

"What do you mean 'no', Carter? Klink could help us somehow," Hogan said.

"No, you can't! He'll find out, please, Colonel, no!" Carter pleaded.

"What do you mean 'he'll find out'?" Newkirk asked.

" _Mon Colonel's_ right, André. Klink can get rid of him, if he knows of your past with _Monsieur_ Bosche," LeBeau said.

"No, no, no! You can't, Colonel! Please, sir, don't tell Klink! Please, Colonel!" Carter practically begged. He was grabbing onto both of Hogan's arms tightly, like he was terrified of letting him go.

"Carter...what did he do to you? You're acting like I'll die if I try confronting him," Hogan said, shocked.

"You _will_ die, Colonel! I can't let you die for me! If you tell Klink, he'll find out, and you'll die!" Carter whimpered.

"How's the Gov'nor gonna die, Andrew? He can get help and make sure that bastard never hurts you again," Newkirk said.

Carter did not answer. He just shook his head and looked back at Hogan with tears falling down his face.

"Please, Colonel... _please_ don't tell Klink...I don't want you to die."

Hogan nodded softly and patted Carter on the shoulder.

"Alright, Carter. I won't tell Klink...we'll just have to find another way to get rid of him, then."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

The next day, Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau were playing a game of basketball, and Carter sat on the bench outside barracks two reading a book in the sunshine. Hogan was inside his quarters doing paperwork for Klink.

The young man kept reading his book in peace, when a shadow blocked the sunlight and hovered over him. At first, Carter thought it was just a cloud passing in the sky. As soon as he realized the cloud hadn't moved for so long, he looked up and gasped upon seeing Walters grinning at him with a vicious look in his eyes. The young sergeant shot up from the bench and latched onto the side of the barracks with his back pressed hard against the wall. He looked at Walters like a deer in headlights. He was frozen and had no idea what to do.

"Well, well, well," Walters said. "Didn't think you'd ever see me again, did ya, Sergeant?"

Carter was too terrified to answer. His lip quivered, but nothing more. He just continued gaping at the man before him. For a moment, poor Carter forgot to breathe.

"Let me tell ya a little secret, Sergeant. I'm _never_ gone. Couldn't get rid of me if you tried. Not even your little Colonel Hogan could get rid of me."

"You...you leave Colonel Hogan alone." Carter softly pleaded.

"Or else what?"

Carter licked his lips, but did not answer.

Walters chuckled softly.

"Chicken...just as I thought. You haven't changed a bit, Rat."

"...Colonel…" Carter whimpered softly. He knew it would not work, but had hoped saying it would get Hogan to show up and get the man away from him.

"Don't think he can hear you, when you speak so quietly, kid."

Carter began to shake. His body was locking up and shutting down from pure fear. He feared this man more than Hochstetter and the Gestapo.

"You! What do you think you are doing?!" A familiar voice asked from behind Walters. The lieutenant turned to see Schultz standing behind him looking fierce. He was glaring hard at the lieutenant and had noticed him making Carter uncomfortable. He now looked like he was suffering from a severe phobia of the man.

Carter somehow shook out of his stage of unresponsiveness and ran to Schultz. He dodged behind the big guard and hid to the right of him, while latching onto his jacket tight. He knew Schultz would not let Walters harm a single hair on his head. If Hogan was not there for the moment, he was certainly glad Schultz was.

"Who and _what_ are you?" Walters sneered, crossing his arms.

"I am Sergeant Schultz, Kommandant Klink's Sergeant of the Guard! Now, what are you doing to Sergeant Carter?" Schultz demanded.

Walters gave the German guard one quick look, then shook his head.

" _You_ , sir, do not frighten me. My own mother scares me more than you do." He hissed.

"You leave Sergeant Carter be or else."

"What? You'll tell Klink?" Walters burst out into laughter. "The man couldn't frighten a fly! He's a coward!"

"Don't you say such things about the Kommandant! He can be very vicious!"

"Uh huh, and I bet you can be just as well?"

Schultz was not fond of this man. The minute he laid eyes on Walters, he instantly disliked him. He was cold hearted, arrogant, disrespectful, and did not know when to shut his mouth. Hogan and the men would give Schultz grief from time to time, but they were not rude and corruptive like Walters was proving to be.

"Lieutenant Walters, I am going to count to three and if you do not move away from Sergeant Carter, I will have Kommandant Klink escort you to the cooler!" Schultz replied sharply.

"Oooooooo! I'm so scared of a big teddy bear!" Walters taunted, thinking Schultz was nothing more than a big joke. In fact, he was trying to figure out how in the world no one had escaped from Stalag 13, not once. He could do it in broad daylight while a guard was looking right at him. There had to be something else there he was missing, but he would worry about that later. Right now, he had a fluffy guard irritating the hell out of him and was determined to get him to leave and get back to his sergeant.

"I take it you find this amusing, Lieutenant," a cold voice from behind said. Walters turned to find Hogan standing directly in front of the barracks door. He was glaring right into his eyes and held an expressionless look to his face with his arms crossed.

He sneered at Hogan.

"And where did you come from, may I ask?" Walters asked, snooty.

"I was in my office doing paperwork assigned by Kommandant Klink for me to do on a work detail. And I assume you were going against my warning?" Hogan replied smugly.

Walters simply stared at him.

Hogan took one step closer to Walters and made himself very clear with what he was about to say.

"Stay the hell away from Carter."

"Or else what?"

"Or else you'll be dealing with me and Kommandant Klink. He doesn't put up well with prison riots!"

Walters gauged that the low words Hogan had rumbled were a sinister promise rather than idle threat. He glanced at the German sergeant, looked back at Hogan's intense gaze, then stormed off in a surly huff.

Once Schultz saw Carter was alright, he left Hogan to take care of the rest, while he returned to guard duty outside the Kommandantur.

"You alright, Carter?" Hogan asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"I'm alright now, Colonel...thanks," Carter said softly.

Hogan smiled at the young sergeant.

"No problem." The commanding officer looked over to where LeBeau, Kinch, and Newkirk were playing basketball. "LeBeau."

The little Frenchman turned to look at Hogan and hurried towards him and Carter.

" _Oui_ , _Colonel_?" He asked.

"I want you to take Carter over there with you. I want one of you around with him at all times. I don't want him alone with that man walking around unattended. Also, keep your eyes aware of Walters. I sense deep trouble lingering with him," Hogan ordered quietly.

" _Oui_ , _Colonel_. Come on, André. You can be the referee," LeBeau said, smiling.

Carter nodded and followed his little friend.

Hogan smiled in their direction and walked back into the barracks to continue his work. Unknown to him, he had a set of eyes watching him from afar. Walters leaned against a post of the Kommandantur, and glared at Hogan. His eyes burned just looking at the man.

"Colonel Hogan...you're a problem...and I _hate_ problems." Walters growled.

* * *

Night finally came, and the gang of five were sitting at the table talking with one another.

"Colonel, you should've seen it! I took Pierre down like a professional!" LeBeau cried. He was rejoicing over his win in basketball against Kinch and Newkirk.

"I still think you bloody cheated." Newkirk grumbled.

"Can't take a loss like a man, Newkirk," Kinch teased.

"You're real funny, ya know that?"

Hogan chuckled.

"Alright, guys. That's enough," he said, grinning.

Newkirk turned to Carter and gave him a friendly smile.

"Did a good job reffing, Andrew," he said.

Carter twiddled his thumbs and seemed worried about something. He was not even looking at his best friend.

"Carter, what's wrong?" Kinch asked, concerned.

He did not answer.

"Carter, you alright?" Hogan asked.

Still nothing.

Hogan turned to look at the others, worried.

"Was he acting like this all day?"

"He was fine up until now, Colonel," LeBeau said.

"Even at dinner, Gov'nor," Newkirk said.

Hogan looked back at Carter, who got up and made his way to Hogan's room. He gently closed the door behind him without making a sound. The American officer looked back at Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau anxiously.

"You three stay here. Let me know if Walters comes in," Hogan ordered.

" _Oui, Colonel_ ," LeBeau said.

Hogan rose from the table and made his way into his quarters. He found Carter sitting on his bunk gripping onto Hogan's blanket for dear life. The colonel closed the door and walked in front of his technical sergeant, then kneeled down before him. He looked at Carter with friendly eyes. He wanted to help him, he wanted to make him feel better, but unless Carter told him what was going on, he could not do that for him.

"Carter, you okay?" Hogan asked softly.

The young sergeant shook his head 'no'.

"Why not?"

Carter swallowed a knot in his throat, but continued to stay silent.

"Carter, I wanna help you, I really do...but I can't do that, if you won't tell me what's wrong."

"I...can't, Colonel," Carter croaked.

"You can't tell me. Why not?" Hogan asked.

"He'll...he'll kill you."

"No one's gonna kill me, Carter. I'm just fine."

"He _will_ , Colonel. If I tell you, he'll kill you!"

"Who, Walters?"

He did not answer.

"Carter, look at me," Hogan spoke quietly.

The young man lifted his head and met Hogan's eyes.

"Walters is not going to kill me. I'm fine, Newkirk's fine, LeBeau's fine, and Kinch is fine. We're all okay, Carter. I'm not gonna let him hurt you, I promised that...and I don't break my promises, do I?"

Carter's lip quivered and nodded.

"Please, Carter...tell me what's wrong. Why are you so afraid of Lieutenant Walters?"

Carter opened his mouth to say something, when Hogan's door opened and there was standing Walters. Hogan stood to his feet, and Carter jumped up and wrapped his arms around Hogan like a five year old to his dad.

The colonel turned to look at him, feeling horrible for Carter. Out of all people, Carter did not deserve to suffer through something like he was now. It intensified Hogan's anger, as he returned to look at Carter's old commanding officer.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Hogan demanded.

"That is just between me and Carter here... _isn't it_ , Sergeant," Walters hissed.

Carter leaned his head against Hogan's shoulder and started shaking a little.

"You're alright, Carter," Hogan said, keeping his eyes on Walters. If there was anything he would do, he would _never_ let this man hurt Carter again. He would not let him hurt _any_ of his men.

"You can't protect him 24-7, Colonel," Walters warned.

"I've taken care of that problem already. Who's protecting Carter is none of your concern." Hogan growled.

"He's one of _my_ men!"

"He became one of _my_ men the day he came to Stalag 13! Now, _I'm_ the commanding officer in this camp, not _you_! And while we're on that topic, let me remind you that _I_ outrank you by quite a bit, Lieutenant!"

"Colonel, stop! Please!" Carter begged softly.

"You hear how he's talking to me, Sergeant?!" Walters snapped.

Carter grabbed onto Hogan tighter, afraid he was starting to hurt him from squeezing so tight.

"Get out of my quarters," Hogan said roughly.

"I'm not…"

"I said 'Get out', Lieutenant! I'll permit you to enter my room when I wish for it, understood?!"

Walters grinded his jaw, then stormed out of Hogan's room, quickly replaced by LeBeau, Newkirk, and Kinch.

"We're sorry, Colonel. We were coming here to warn you, when Walters gave us a warning he'd set the barracks on fire that made us stay put," Kinch said apologetically.

"It's alright, Kinch," Hogan said softly.

"Is Andrew alright, Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked.

Hogan turned to look at Carter, who was still grabbing him firmly.

"Carter, you're alright now. Walters is gone," Hogan said.

He looked up into Hogan's eyes. They held terror and frightening memories that the commanding officer wanted nothing more than to know in order to help his friend.

"I'm alright, Carter...we're all alright." He continued.

"Yeah, mate. We're all here with ya," Newkirk said friendly.

"We won't let the filthy bosche hurt you, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said.

Carter nodded, then slowly let go of Hogan's arm.

Hogan patted Carter's shoulder gently, then looked back up at his men.

"We've gotta do something about Walters," He said, firm.

"But how, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"I don't know. I'm thinking of something...but I won't let him hurt one of you men, _especially_ Carter." Hogan replied. "Tonight, I want all three of you to take turns at night watching for Walters. I have a feeling he'll find any opportunity to try and cause harm to Carter or anyone of you he gets. Keep doing it every night until I say otherwise."

"Gotcha, sir," Kinch said.

"No problem, Gov'nor."

" _Oui_ , _Colonel_."

Hogan nodded and turned to look at Carter. "You alright with that, Carter?"

"Yes, Colonel...just please don't make him angry, sir. I know you're trying to protect me, but please don't put yourself in danger because of me, sir...I couldn't handle it, if something happened to you." He whispered.

"I told you, Carter. I can take care of myself. You don't need to worry about me," Hogan said.

"But, Colonel-"

"Carter, I said stop worrying about me," Hogan ordered more sternly.

He nodded sadly.

"Yes, sir," the young sergeant said softly

Hogan nodded, then looked back to the rest of his men.

"Why don't all of you go to bed? You guys could use all the rest you can get," he suggested.

They agreed and started to file out of the room.

"See you in the morning, Colonel," Carter bade.

"I'll take the first shift, guys," Kinch said, following the men out.

Once the door had closed, Hogan sat down in his desk and rubbed his face with his hands. Knowing one of his men or more of them were in danger _always_ stressed him out. He needed a plan to get rid of Walters, but oddly enough, nothing was coming to him. He decided to sleep on it and see where he would be in the morning with it. He put on his pajamas and crawled into bed. Having not realized how tired he was, he fell fast asleep the minute he hit his pillow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

It was around 3AM, and LeBeau was the one with the three hour shift currently. The rest of the prisoners were sound asleep. The little Frenchman could not take his eyes off of the sleeping form of Lieutenant Walters in the back. He sneered at the sleeping man. He despised him with every part of his being.

 _I don't know what you did to poor André, but you'll be sorry when mon Colonel finds out what_ , LeBeau thought to himself. And if Hogan did not take the first action, he certainly would.

LeBeau was starting to doze off and daydream about a pretty girl back in Paris when he was brought out of his thoughts by a blood curdling scream.

"COLONEL!" It cried. It was Carter.

LeBeau leaped almost out of his bunk from the noise. He jumped down onto the ground and hurried to Carter's bunk. Kinch soon joined his side, and Newkirk looked over from his bunk above Carter.

"What the bloody hell was that?!" Newkirk gasped.

"It's Carter. He's having a nightmare." Kinch answered.

"COLONEL! NO!" Carter wailed. He was shaking and moving his head rapidly from side to side.

"Carter, wake up. It's a nightmare. It's only a dream, Carter," Kinch said soothingly. It did not help.

"Come on, _mon ami_. We're all alright. It's just a _un cauchemar_ ," LeBeau said softly.

"Blimey, Louis. Would ya speak bloody English?" Newkirk groaned.

" _Un cauchemar_. It means 'a nightmare'." LeBeau clarified.

Carter started whimpering in his sleep.

"Colonel," he wept.

"Andrew, wake up, mate! It's only a nightmare." Newkirk pleaded. His heart was breaking seeing Carter like this.

Carter opened his eyes and sat up in bed, panting. He looked at Kinch and LeBeau, then up at Newkirk, then back down to the two again.

"Where's Colonel Hogan?" Carter begged.

"The Colonel's fine, Carter. He's sleeping in his quarters." Kinch reassured him.

"Where's Colonel Hogan? Where is he?" Carter pleaded.

"He's just fine, mate. He's just fine," Newkirk said softly.

"I need to see him! Where is he?!" Carter cried.

As if on cue, Hogan hurried out of his quarters to his men in his pajamas, slippers, and bathrobe.

"What's going on?" Hogan asked, worried.

"Carter had a nightmare, Colonel," Newkirk said.

Hogan knelt down besides Carter's bunk and looked at him.

"Carter," Hogan said.

The young sergeant turned to Hogan with his eyes wet.

"Colonel, don't die! Please don't die!" Carter begged.

"Die...from what, Carter?" Hogan asked.

Carter shivered. All he could do was point ahead of him.

Hogan, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Kinch followed Carter's finger finding it pointed at the sleeping form on the lieutenant's bed.

"Walters?" Hogan asked.

It took a minute, but Carter eventually nodded.

"How Carter? How's Walters gonna kill me?"

Carter did not answer. His face read fear all over it. Hogan or any of them had never seen Carter so afraid before in his life.

"Please, Carter...tell me what he did to you...I can help you if you tell me. I promise he won't hurt you, Newkirk, Kinch, LeBeau, or anyone."

"Colonel…" he shivered.

"I'm alright, Carter. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Carter grabbed Hogan's hand and held it tight in his.

"Oh, Carter," Hogan sadly said. Why did this have to be happening to him, he wondered. He turned to look at Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau, who were just as concerned as Hogan was. The colonel let out a huge breath of air and focused on Kinch. "Kinch, stay up with him for a while until he can go back to sleep. LeBeau, I want you to get Wilson in the morning after roll call. I want him to take a look at Carter and figure out what's going on."

"Sure, Colonel," Kinch said willingly.

" _Oui, Colonel_ ," LeBeau said.

Hogan nodded, rose to his feet, then made his way back into his quarters to sleep for the rest of the night...that is, if he _could_ fall back to sleep.

* * *

After morning roll call, LeBeau did what Hogan asked him during the night and went to retrieve Sergeant Joe Wilson from barracks twelve. He arrived to barracks two to find Hogan in his quarters with Carter sitting on the lower bunk of Hogan's bed.

Wilson set his bag down on the desk and looked at Hogan. Being a medic for so long, he could see the anxiety permeating off his body. Wilson knew Hogan always got like this when one of his men were in trouble. Especially when it was one of his friends on his team.

"What's going on, Colonel?" Wilson asked worried.

Hogan let out a huge sigh before answering the camp medic.

"I'm worried about Carter, Joe. He hasn't been the same since Lieutenant Walters arrived." Hogan tried to keep his voice hushed; he did not want Carter to hear him.

Wilson sighed and crossed his arms.

"He has been a bit more...anxious since then, Colonel," Wilson said softly.

"He's suffering anxiety, complete paralysis sometimes around Walters, and last night he had a nightmare of me dying. In fact, he keeps begging me not to die and to leave Walters alone. He won't tell me why, and I'm worried, Joe. What if something's seriously wrong with Carter?"

"Carter's gonna be just fine. Maybe I can get him to talk."

"If you do, Joe, it'll be a miracle."

Wilson nodded and walked towards Carter and knelt down on the floor in front of him. Hogan stood by his door and made sure no one disturbed them while Wilson examined the young sergeant.

The medic smiled warmly at Carter.

"Carter, how are you feeling today?" Wilson asked.

"Oh, I'm alright, buddy. Just a little tired is all." Carter answered, feigning a smile.

"Colonel Hogan tells me you had a nightmare last night. You wanna talk about it?"

"No, I'm alright, sir. It was nothing, really."

Wilson did not say anything for a while. He had to get Carter to talk about what happened last night, but how? He decided to take the easiest approach for the meanwhile.

"Carter, Colonel Hogan says you were screaming for him last night in your nightmare. Did something happen to him in your dream?"

Carter grew silent and started twiddling his thumbs. He looked down at his knees and did not answer.

"Come on, Carter. We want to help you: Colonel Hogan, Newkirk, Kinch, LeBeau, and I. We all wanna help you...but we can't if we don't know why you're acting this way... _please_ tell us, Carter...what did Lieutenant Walters do to you while he was your commanding officer?" Wilson asked, basically pleading.

Carter shook his head.

"I can't tell you...he'll kill Colonel Hogan." Carter quivered.

Hogan looked at his young sergeant with sympathetically.

"How, Carter? How will Lieutenant Walters kill Colonel Hogan?" Wilson questioned.

Carter started shaking violently and within the blink of an eye, ran out of Hogan's room as fast as he could without saying another word.

Wilson made his way to Hogan, who just looked shocked at what just happened. The camp medic only hung his head and shook it.

"He's gotta talk about it, Colonel. I'm worried Carter will shut down if he continues to keep it all locked up inside," Wilson said softly.

"Shut down. What do you mean 'shut down'?" Hogan asked worried.

"Shut down. Unresponsive, despondent, catatonic."

"Joe, you got to do something. We've gotta get Carter to tell one of us what happened while under Lieutenant Walters's command."

"We might have to force it out of him."

"Force it out of him. How?"

Wilson sighed.

"You might have to be harsh with him."

" _Harsh_...with Carter?!"

"I know Carter is like a son to you, but you've got to get him to talk! I don't know how much longer he can keep holding it all bottle upped inside."

Hogan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why, he thought. Why, out of all people, did it have to be Carter going through this? The man did nothing but be friendly and kind to others. He could not seem to grasp how a nice guy like Carter had to be going through this. He wished he would have been there with him when it happened to help him then instead of now...but the problem was he did not know _what_ happened. He needed to know what happened and soon, or he was afraid he would lose Carter completely.

"Joe, are you sure there isn't any other way?" Hogan asked.

"I'm afraid not, Colonel...I'm sorry," Wilson said sincerely.

Hogan sighed and nodded.

"Alright...thanks, Joe."

"You're welcome. Let me know if anything changes."

"You'll be the first one to know."

Wilson nodded and left Hogan's quarters just as Kinch walked into the room.

"Is everything alright, Colonel? We just saw Carter rush out of here without a word. He looked terrified," Kinch said worried.

"He's having a more difficult time telling me what's wrong than I originally thought." Hogan answered gruffly.

"Poor Carter."

"Wish I could help him somehow...if only I could reassure him that nothing bad would happen if he told me." Hogan looked up and out his bedroom window. He kept trying to think of another way to get Carter to talk to him without forcing him to do so in a harsh manner.

"You'll think of something, sir. You always do," Kinch said positively.

"Thanks, Kinch," Hogan said. He went silent for a moment before speaking again. "Kinch, get on the horn to London. I want as much information on this Lieutenant Walters as possible. Tell them it's urgent."

"Right, sir."

"By the way, where is the little devil anyways?"

"Last time I saw him, he was wandering around camp looking completely devoid of life."

"Completely devoid of life. How so?"

"He just didn't seem human. I can't describe it, sir. He looked...immortal. His eyes were hazy, had no expression to his face, he wouldn't respond to others in any way...just...devoid of life."

Hogan raised an incredulous eyebrow. Walters just became more of an interest to Hogan. He finally nodded.

"Alright, Kinch. Get going on that assignment I gave you," Hogan ordered instructed.

"Yes, Colonel." Kinch was about to leave, when he turned around and looked back at his commanding officer. "Oh, Colonel."

"Yes, Kinch?"

Kinch gave a small smile.

"Carter's gonna be just fine, Colonel. He will be with us around."

Hogan smiled back sadly.

"I hope you're right, Kinch," he said softly.

Kinch nodded and left Hogan to himself.

The American officer sat down at his desk and rubbed his forehead and sighed. He then looked up and stared at the wall. He was worried. He had never been so concerned for one of his men in his entire life. Would Carter go back to being the same smiling, happy guy he once was, or would he be like this for the rest of his life? God, he hoped that would not be the case.

Hogan looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

"Please, God... _please_ help Carter get better," he whispered.

* * *

Hours went by, and Carter, LeBeau, and Newkirk were sitting at the table playing a game of gin. Kinch was down in the tunnels waiting for a response from London, and Hogan was in his quarters working on some papers for Klink that he wanted done.

LeBeau lay down a card then turned to look at Carter.

"Your turn, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said.

Carter nodded and looked at his hand. He was about to make his move, when the fake bunk opened. Kinch came up into the barracks with a sheet of paper in his hand. He hit the mechanism and the entryway to the tunnels closed.

"You three know where the Colonel is?" Kinch asked.

"In his room working on paperwork given to him from Klink," Newkirk said.

"Thanks," Kinch made his way to Hogan's door and knocked on it.

"Come in," Hogan called.

Kinch opened the door then closed it behind him. He made his way to Hogan's desk, where the colonel was busy looking through paperwork regarding something in particular. Hogan turned towards Kinch and looked at him.

"What can I help ya with, Kinch?" He asked.

"Got that information you wanted on Walters, Colonel," Kinch said.

Hogan got to his feet and stood next to him.

"What does it say?" Hogan asked.

He handed the paper to Hogan to look at..

"Lieutenant Richard Walters, nickname Dick. Born August 5, 1906." Hogan began.

"So he's 37 years old currently."

Hogan nodded and continued.

"Graduated from high school in Rhode Island. Attended and graduated from Valley Forge Military Academy in Wayne, Pennsylvania as a second lieutenant." Hogan stopped reading and kept his eyes fixed on something for quite a while. When Hogan did not say anything for a long while, Kinch started growing concerned.

"Colonel? Are you alright?" Kinch asked.

"Kinch, listen to this," Hogan said. "Lieutenant Walters was admitted into a psychiatric hospital shortly after his first military assignment in 1935. He was diagnosed with suffering from a type of psychosis but recovered after several months of treatment and was assigned to work in the 182nd bombing squad as a commanding officer."

"I know, Colonel. I asked London for further information, but said they didn't have any."

"What concerns me more is what kind of symptoms he was suffering from when he was admitted."

"You know about psychology, Colonel?"

"A little. I know a couple of mental disorders, but unless I know what the symptoms he had were, I can't identify what disorder he possibly had."

"Colonel, just a thought. What if Walters never actually _recovered_ from his mental disorder?"

"Never actually recovered. What do you mean, Kinch?"

"Sir, what if Walters faked getting better?"

"You think he faked getting better?"

"Colonel, there's a mental illness known as sociopathy. People who suffer from it can suffer from states of psychosis, manipulate others in doing what they want, have no regards to other people's feelings, lack of emotion, strong charisma, and extreme recklessness."

"I know of sociopathy...you think Walters could be a sociopath?"

"It would not surprise me, Colonel. I mean look at Carter. He's so worried about Walters killing you or causing you harm and whenever the man's around, he completely shuts down and basically does everything he says unless one of us is there to stop it. He has no regard to Carter's feelings and actually gets a thrill of seeing him terrified."

"But if people with sociopathy can act fine and hide their symptoms to a certain degree, how do we get rid of him?"

"I don't know, Colonel. I couldn't tell you."

"Kinch, listen to me. If what we assume is true, and Walters really is a sociopath, I don't want you, Carter, LeBeau, or Newkirk alone at any moment for whatever reason. You guys and everyone else in this barracks go in groups of two and not leave the other's sight for whatever reason. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir. What about _you_ , Colonel?"

"Don't worry about me. What's important right now is helping Carter and try to get him to talk on what Walters did to him in the time frame he was under his command. We also have to find out if Walters is a true sociopath. If he is and we can find enough evidence to prove he is, we can get London to send him back to a psychiatric hospital or possibly have Klink get a transfer for him."

"You want me to tell the others what we know?"

"Not yet. I'd like to tell them myself, _especially_ Carter."

"Yes, Colonel."

"And whatever you guys do, do _not_ , under _any_ circumstances, do you tell Walters about the operation, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Hogan nodded.

"Alright, you're dismissed. Keep an eye out there for Walters. You, LeBeau, and Newkirk protect Carter at all costs," Hogan ordered.

"No problem, Colonel. Walters won't come anywhere _near_ Carter," Kinch said.

Hogan nodded, and Kinch left the colonel's room to return to his friends. Once Kinch was gone, Hogan plopped into his chair and sighed. He fumbled with the sheet of paper in his hand with Walters's information on it. He let out a breath and turned to look out his window at the night sky.

 _Don't worry, Carter_ , Hogan thought. _I'm not gonna let Walters lay a single hand on you again...even if it means my life to do so_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

Carter sat in his bunk reading a book while Newkirk, LeBeau, and Kinch sat at the table playing a game of gin. Hogan was in his room working on papers for Klink, and Walters was somewhere wandering around outside.

Newkirk put a card down on the table then looked up at both his friends sitting in front of him.

"What do ya think we should do about Walters, mates? The man's an issue and has gotta go," Newkirk stated.

"I don't like him anymore than you do, Newkirk, but until Colonel Hogan says so, we're suppose to remain still. We're also forbidden to tell him anything regarding the operation." Kinch answered.

"Well, _that's_ a no brainer, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau grumbled putting down his card and grabbing one from the deck.

"Where is the little demon anyways?" Newkirk asked.

"Somewhere outside, as usual," Kinch said.

"Hey, guys," Carter said. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure thing, Carter. What do you wanna know?" Kinch asked friendly.

Carter hesitated for a moment before he answered.

"What's the punishment for committing a fragging?"

"A _fragging_!" All three men exclaimed. They all shot to their feet and looked at one another before returning their eyes on Carter.

"Is _that_ what you're afraid of, André?" LeBeau gasped.

Carter was silent for a moment before answering.

"Maybe," was all he said.

"The man's committed bloody fragging!" Newkirk cried.

"He's a murderer to his own people?" LeBeau wailed.

"We gotta tell the Colonel," Kinch said.

As Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau were headed for Hogan's room, Carter screamed.

"NO!" The young sergeant shrieked.

All three of his friends jumped and turned around.

"What the bloody hell do you mean 'no'?" Newkirk asked.

"You want a murderer walking around here?" LeBeau questioned.

"Don't tell Colonel Hogan, please!" Carter pleaded.

"Why not, Carter? He can help get rid of him. You know he'll do everything to make sure he gets away from here," Kinch said confused. Why wouldn't Carter open up and tell them what was wrong, he thought. It was as if he were afraid of something happening, but what was the question. All they knew as of then was that he was terrified of something happening to Hogan and it involved Walters somehow.

"...I can't tell you," Carter said softly.

"Why not, Andrew?! What are you so bloody terrified of?" Newkirk asked. He was growing irritated with all of this. He wanted Carter to just come out with it already.

Carter swallowed a knot in his throat, but he did not answer. He just sat there staring at them with fear in his eyes.

Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau walked back over to their friend and sat down at the table and looked at him.

"Please, _mon ami. Mon Colonel_ can help you with whatever it is." LeBeau begged.

"Yah gotta tell us, mate, or it's just gonna get worse, whatever this is," Newkirk said.

Carter's lip quivered and shook his head 'no'.

Kinch sighed sadly.

"Come on, Carter...please talk to us?" The radioman asked pleaing.

Carter shook his head no.

Newkirk let out a sigh of frustration.

"Blimey. The one time I want him to open his mouth, and he won't say a single word." He grumbled.

Kinch was about to try again, when the door to the barracks opened. Walters walked in and was greeted with one pair of eyes that were terrified of him and three sets of eyes that wanted to straight up strangle the man for what he was doing to their friend.

"What the bloody hell did you do to him?" Newkirk demanded.

Walters simply laughed softly.

"Nothing but give him a little grief is all." The lieutenant turned to Carter and smirked. "Hey, Rat. You remember that time where I nearly scared the living soul out of you that one night? Ha! Your reaction was _priceless_!"

Carter shrunk more onto his bed. He kept hoping maybe he would eventually disappear from sight.

Walters turned to look at Hogan's closed door with the same wicked smile then returned to look at Carter and his friends.

"I wonder what that colonel's screams of agony sound like," he wondered.

"You leave Colonel Hogan alone!" Carter cried.

"You gonna do something if I try? Get over yourself, Sergeant. You're the biggest fraidy cat I've ever met!" Walters cackled.

Carter shook in his spot, when the door to Hogan's quarters opened. The colonel himself walked out of the room and glowered his eyes to Walters. He crossed his arms and held his ground firmly.

"What's going on out here?" Hogan asked, with a great deal of harshness in his voice.

Carter hurried over to the colonel and held onto him like a five year old trying to be separated from his parent.

Hogan glared at Carter for a moment, then turned his eyes back to Walters, waiting for an answer from him.

"Just remembering the good times with Sergeant Carter here is all." The lieutenant answered, smiling.

Hogan shoved Carter off of him gently and moved closer to Walters. His eyes were cold and full of hatred.

"You listen to me, and you listen to me carefully. I don't want you anywhere near Carter, anywhere near Corporal LeBeau, Corporal Newkirk, Sergeant Kinchloe, I don't want you anywhere near _any_ of my men, understood? _If_ you so happen to disobey those orders, I'll have Kommandant Klink throw you out of here so fast, you won't have time to register what happened." He hissed.

"I'm not afraid of you, weakling." Walters growled.

"You might wanna reconsider those words, Lieutenant. If you've forgotten already, _I_ outrank you; so what I say goes, got it?"

Walters glared at Hogan for a moment later before speaking.

"Watch your back, _Colonel_. I would hate to see something happen to you suddenly." The lieutenant sneered.

Hogan did not answer. He just continued watching the man carefully.

Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau watched from the other side and were ready to step in if Walters even dared to lay a finger on their commanding officer.

Walters stared at Hogan a bit longer then marched out of barracks two and slammed the door hard on his way out.

Hogan turned his head slowly to Carter and glared at his technical sergeant.

Carter hung his head, afraid to make eye contact with his commanding officer. Somehow he managed to find enough courage and quickly looked into his eyes. He could see the annoyance in Hogan's brown eyes with a hint of anger in them. The commander turned his head back to the front and looked at the three men before him.

"What happened?" Hogan asked. All of them knew it wasn't a question.

"Walters threatened to hurt you, and Carter started freaking out." Kinch answered honestly. He did not want to rat out Carter, but his mental health was at stake, and Kinch was not about to let his friend slip down a hole of no return. He would do everything in his power along with his friends to make sure Carter got better as soon as possible.

"Gee, thanks, Kinch," Carter said sardonically.

"Is there a reason Carter started panicking before Walters came in here?" Hogan asked, his patience wearing thin.

"We were talking with Carter regarding Walters, sir," Newkirk said. He left out the part regarding Walters possibly committing fragging. He would let Carter tell Hogan that when he was ready to talk about it. He felt it probably would not help the situation at hands and possibly make it even worse if he were to do so.

"What about Walters?" Hogan asked again.

"Just trying to get him to tell us what happened that he's so terrified of, Colonel." LeBeau answered.

Hogan let out a breath of frustration then nodded.

"Keep him quiet, will you? I've got enough paperwork in my office that Klink needs done to send to Tokyo and back again," Hogan ordered.

"Yes, sir," Kinch said for all of them.

Hogan turned around and made his way back into his room closing the door behind him. He did not slam it, but he did not close the door gently, either.

Once he was in his room again, Carter made his way slowly back to his friends and silently sat down at the table.

"Andrew, if you don't tell the Gov'nor what's going on soon, you're gonna be asking for trouble," Newkirk warned.

"I can't tell him! What part of that don't you guys get?!" Carter cried angrily.

"Nothing's gonna happen to Colonel Hogan, Carter. We're not gonna let anything of the kind happen to him. We need to know, though. The sooner the better," Kinch said.

"I can't. He'll find out! Now, I know we've faced dangerous situations before, but Lieutenant Walters is different! I've seen what he's capable of doing, and I won't risk Colonel Hogan's life by telling you guys what!"

Kinch sighed, then slowly nodded.

"Alright, Carter. We'll leave it be." The radioman softly answered.

Carter nodded, then got to his feet. He walked over to the fake bunk and banged it open. Once he did so, he climbed down the ladder and made his way to his lab.

"Baker, watch the door," Kinch ordered.

"Yes. Kinch," Baker said, and made his way over to be lookout for any unwanted visitors.

Newkirk shook his head sadly.

"Poor kid's got it bad."

" _Oui_. I wish there was something we could do to help him," LeBeau forlornly said.

"All we can do is wait for him to come out with it on his own. That's the only thing at the moment." Kinch answered, crossing his arms.

"I don't know how much longer I can watch Andrew like this anymore, Kinch. He's gotta start talking, or I might force him to talk myself," Newkirk said, depressed.

"It might only make things worse, Pierre," LeBeau said.

"Andrew's gonna go bloody mad, if he keeps this up, Louis!" Newkirk snapped.

"We won't let it get that bad, Newkirk," Kinch said calmly.

"How? The only way to do that is to kill the man, and the Gov'nor has already told us that's out of the question unless it's in need of self defense."

"I don't know, but I really wish I had the answer to that." Kinch answered.

* * *

Carter sat at his table messing with formulas to create another explosive for any assignment that it might be needed for. He could not seem to get his mind off of his past commanding officer, though. Why had he had to come back into his life? Wasn't once enough? He guessed it was not, considering the predicament he was currently stuck in. He could not understand it, though. Hogan had promised him that nothing bad would happen to him, and he knew his commanding officer all too well. He knew that if Hogan promised something, he kept that promise. He had proven that many times to the young sergeant. It was one of the things he liked most about his commander: he was honest and dependable. So why was he still so terrified of telling him what had happened that night? He wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau, too. He wanted to tell _all_ of them, but he was not going to put their lives on the line despite the fact that he could not get past it in his mind or for the other fact that Walters haunted him every waking moment. No, it had to remain a secret. Walters would not hesitate to kill Hogan at any minute after finding out he told him what had happened, and Carter would die if anything happened to his commanding officer and best friend. Knowing he had been responsible for Hogan's death would be the all time worst thing to live with in his life. In fact, he was not sure if he could move on from such an event. It would destroy him. Hogan and his friends already knew probably too much as it was. He was not about to push that luck. He had to remain quiet, but wondered how much longer he could go before losing it all together.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

Hogan paced back and forth in his room. His brain was working on overdrive regarding Carter. He was getting worried... _real_ worried. Carter seemed to be getting worse the longer he kept to himself and held back from telling him what occurred during his command under Walters that made him so terrified of the man. He knew there were several reasons why he was scared of Walters, but there was one overall factor that contributed to the fear, and the American officer was determined to figure out what it was so he could immediately help Carter feel safe and secure once again.

Hogan turned around and started pacing back to his window when there was a knock on the door that brought him out of his thoughts. He turned around to face his door and wrapped his arms around himself.

"Come in," Hogan granted.

Kinch opened the door and walked in holding a piece of paper in his hand.

"You have a minute, Colonel?" Kinch asked.

"Yeah, close the door," Hogan said.

Kinch followed orders and shut the door then approached Hogan.

The colonel looked at Kinch incredulously then saw the piece of paper he held in his hand.

"What's that?" Hogan asked.

"A message from London, sir. They were able to get a hold of Walters's medical records and found the symptoms to what he was suffering from when he was admitted into the hospital eight years ago."

Hogan grabbed the message and read through it carefully. He scanned each word and began to analyze the symptoms to try and pinpoint a mental ailment that could possibly match the list.

"Lack of remorse, guilt, or empathy, shallow emotions, egocentric, need for constant excitement, and highly abusive." Hogan read off.

"Yes, sir,"

"Anything else, Kinch?"

"Afraid not, sir."

Hogan thought to himself for a moment longer then let out a breath of air.

"Sure sounds like sociopathy if I've ever heard of it," Hogan said.

"I would agree, Colonel," Kinch said.

"Do Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter know about this?"

"No, sir. I kept it to myself just as you ordered me."

"Good. I'd like to tell them myself."

"How do we get rid of him, Colonel? You know just as well as I do that Walters might try something the longer he's here. He'll make Carter worse than he already is."

"I know, Kinch. I'm thinking of something. Just difficult to prove to someone that a person is a sociopath, _especially_ a person like Klink."

"I think Walters finds Klink a joke."

"Most people do, Kinch," Hogan said, smiling.

Kinch could not help but chuckle.

"True, Colonel. Very right you are."

Hogan's smile faded as soon as he thought of Carter again.

"I've gotta get rid of him. I can't stand seeing Carter like this."

"I know, Colonel. It'll be alright, sir. Carter's a lot stronger than he makes out to be."

"I hope you're right...I might be only faced with forcing it out of him, though."

"Why do you think that, Colonel?"

"Wilson said that Carter's forcing himself to keep quiet and that if he keeps it to himself any longer, he could mentally lose it and become unresponsive eventually. He said that the only way to get him to talk and tell me what's going on might have to be done by force and being harsh with him...I hate getting hard with you guys, though."

"You're only doing it for Carter's good, Colonel. Just remember that if it comes to that."

Hogan sighed and nodded.

"Alright, I'll keep it in mind."

"When are you gonna tell them about Walters?"

"I'd like to tell Carter first before Newkirk and LeBeau know. He deserves to be the first, after all."

"Of course."

"When's dinner gonna be ready?"

"LeBeau said in a little while, sir."

Hogan nodded.

"Kinch, can you leave me alone for a little bit? I got some things to figure out before dinner."

"Sure thing, Colonel."

Kinch started for the door, when Hogan stopped him.

"Kinch?"

The radioman turned to Hogan. His commanding officer was smiling at him faintly.

"Thanks."

Kinch gave the same smile back.

"No problem, Colonel. See you at dinner."

He closed the door behind him again leaving Hogan to himself. The commanding officer went back to pacing his quarters trying to figure out what to do about Walters, but more importantly, Carter. He had to get him talking somehow, and he knew it had to be soon. Out of all methods, though, he was highly resilient to forcing Carter to open up to him. Carter was sensitive and innocent, and he knew how much the sergeant hated it when he was upset or disappointed with him. The only time he really laid down the law was when they were either putting themselves into danger or making a stupid decision that could risk their entire operation at Stalag 13. Not once had he ever been mean in order to try and get one of his men to tell them what was wrong with them.

Hogan sighed and pinched his nose. He slumped into his chair and sat there. His mind was racing. He did not want to be rough with Carter, but it was looking like the only option for him currently. After careful thinking, he decided that he would give Carter one final chance. If he had another outbreak due to Walters one more time, he would make Carter tell him what was going on with him, though the colonel hoped it would not come to that ending result.

Hogan got lost in his thoughts, when there was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he said.

The door to Hogan's quarters opened, and LeBeau entered in.

"Colonel, dinner's ready," he informed him.

Hogan looked up from his desk and suddenly felt and heard his stomach growling. He put his hand on his belly, realizing just how bad his hunger was.

"Thanks, LeBeau. I didn't realize how hungry I actually was." He answered.

LeBeau nodded and left to return to the main area of the barracks. Hogan, shortly after, also left his quarters and joined his men at the table for dinner.

* * *

Hogan, Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau, and Kinch had finished their dinner and all of them were now sitting at the table with cups of coffee and talking to one another. At the moment, Newkirk was telling them about his recent dream he had about a pretty girl.

"She was absolutely gorgeous, Gov'nor. Ya should've seen her! Tall, blonde, dark blue eyes…" Hogan cut the Englishman off.

"Too bad she wasn't real," Hogan joked.

"She's out there Gov'nor. I know she is!"

"Yeah...in your dreams," LeBeau muttered.

Newkirk glared at the little Frenchman.

"And what about your girl, Antoinette? Don't think she'll be coming around anytime soon."

"Antoinette is different, _mon ami_!"

"How so, besides the fact she's only been in a dream?"

LeBeau gave Newkirk a smug look only making Hogan laugh.

"Alright, alright, settle down, guys. I say _both_ of you guys have girls out there waiting for you," Hogan said.

"What about me, Colonel?" Carter asked.

"You too, Carter." Hogan answered, smiling.

The young sergeant smiled back and nodded.

The door to the barracks opened, and in walked Walters. All five men turned to look at him and were shocked to see the condition he was in. His eyes were clouded over and disconnected from reality. He seemed to be off in some far away land. He kept staring at what seemed like nothing in the distance.

Carter stared at his past commanding officer. His eyes were bulging out of his head, and his face was as white as a sheet.

Hogan turned and stared at him, worried.

"Carter, are you alright?" he asked.

Carter did not respond. He just continued to stare at Walters. His face read terror all over it.

The lieutenant started approaching the table and seemed to be walking towards Hogan.

"NO!" Carter wailed. He shot up from where he sat and latched onto his commanding officer.

Hogan looked at him completely stunned at what Carter had just done. It made the colonel immediately know that whatever happened between Carter and Walters had had a huge impact on the sergeant's life. He gently shoved Carter off of him and approached Walters.

"Alright, what's the deal, Walters?" Hogan asked, voice hard.

Walters did not answer. He just kept staring at him.

The colonel waved a hand in front of his face. He got no response.

The amount of response Walters was currently giving was concerning to the American colonel. Without turning around, Hogan spoke to his second in command.

"Kinch, keep an eye on him, will ya?"

"Yes, Colonel," Kinch said.

Hogan closed his eyes and let out a soft breath.

I _'m sorry, Carter, but I have to do this_ , he thought to himself. Hogan turned around and gave Carter one of his famously known glares he gave when furious with one of his men.

"Carter, my office. _Now_ ," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," Carter said, hurrying to his feet. He made a run for Hogan's room and waited patiently for his commanding officer to enter. When Carter was out of the room, Hogan sighed and turned to face Kinch, LeBeau, and Newkirk with a sad look to his face.

"You're doing what's best for him, Gov'nor," Newkirk said softly.

"I hope you're right, Newkirk," Hogan sadly said.

"Just remember you're only doing this to help André," LeBeau said.

"He'll understand, Colonel," Kinch said.

Hogan nodded, let out another huge breath of air, then turned to look at the door leading into his room.

"Here goes nothing," he said softly. He grabbed the doorknob and turned it. He quickly turned on his angry face, entered the room, and locked the door. He leaned against the closed door and glared coldly at Carter, who was sitting on Hogan's lower bunk and looking down at the ground. The young sergeant was terrified to look his commanding officer straight in the eye. He knew he had it coming, but kept hoping that maybe he would avoid the rage of Hogan if he kept his eyes away from his. He eventually found a bit of confidence from somewhere and lifted his head to face Hogan's.

The colonel kept his eyes fixed on Carter. His face was hard and stone cold. He decided he would break the tension by giving a small smile to Hogan, hoping it would make his commanding officer chuckle.

"Hi," he said softly.

Hogan did not answer and continued to stare him down.

Carter cleared his throat and looked back down at the floor again.

"Carter, I'm done playing nicely," Hogan said brusquely. "Now, tell me what's got you so afraid of Lieutenant Walters."

He lifted his head to look at Hogan briefly, then returned again to stare at the floor. He did not say a single word.

"I'm gonna ask you one last time, and the next one won't be a question. What are you afraid of Lieutenant Walters for?"

Carter did not answer.

"Answer my question, Sergeant!" Hogan snapped.

The young man swallowed a knot in his throat and remained silent. He would not croak no matter how angry Hogan got. He needed to protect his commanding officer, his best friend. He had to remain silent, unless he wanted Walters to go after and kill Hogan for betraying him. He was stuck, and he would remain silent no matter how terrified it made him.

"Answer me!" Hogan thundered.

Carter sat still for a moment, then shot to his legs and hurried towards Hogan's door, forgetting he had locked it after entering. He was stopped by two rough hands forcing him to look up into his commanding officer's eyes. They were filled with anger and fire. He knew he had pushed Hogan to his limit now.

"Colonel...I...I can't," Carter meekly said.

"Why not?" Hogan demanded.

"Because...I can't, okay? Can't you accept that?"

"No."

"Colonel, please!"

"Sergeant, I want an answer, and I want it now! Why are you so afraid of Lieutenant Walters?"

"Colonel, I can't tell you! He'll kill you, if I do!" Carter was breaking now. Tears were falling down his face. He was shaking and pleading with Hogan. He had to keep him safe. If Walters did something to the best commanding officer and friend he had all because he squealed, it would torture him for the rest of his life.

Hogan softened and put a gentle hand on Carter's shoulder.

"Carter, I promise that whatever you tell me will remain in this room. No one, not even Walters, will find out what was exchanged. I always keep my promises, right?" Hogan asked gently.

"Colonel, he has ways. He has ways, and I don't know what they are. He's not any ordinary guy we've dealt with before, Colonel. I can't live with the fact he'd kill you because I squealed on him." Carter choked.

"So he's blackmailing you?"

He trembled, wondering if he should answer. He slowly nodded and swallowed another knot.

"Carter, _please_ tell me. Nothing will happen to me, I promise. I'm gonna be just fine."

Carter hesitated for a moment. He opened his mouth once, but immediately closed it. After licking his lips, he sighed.

"Alright, Colonel...I'll tell you," he said softly.

Hogan escorted Carter over to his bunk and had him sit down on the lower bed. He then made his way to his desk chair, turned it around, then placed his arms on top of the chair head. He crossed his legs and gave Carter his full attention.

"Whenever you're ready, Carter," Hogan said quietly.

Carter closed his eyes and let out a very uneasy breath. When he finally found enough courage, he opened his eyes and looked right into Hogan's. They held kindness, support, warmth, and safety. He felt that as long as Hogan was standing there by his side, no one, not even Walters, could hurt him. He was grateful to have such a wonderful friend and commander in his life. He nodded carefully, then sighed.

"It all started last year in the summer, when I was still serving under Lieutenant Walters for the 182nd bombing squad..."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

( _London, England, Allies Base. July 7, 1942_ )

It was a hot summer day in early July. The men in the 182nd bombing squad did not have any assignments for the day, so they got a chance to relax and enjoy themselves...except for the heat. While most men hung out with their friends or chilled in the shade of trees around base, young sergeant Andrew Carter was scavenging around and exploring his surroundings. Being a fan of chemistry and science, he was always curious about the world around him. How did things work? Why did they work? What was out there? Where was it? So on and so on and so on.

His group of friends had been in the middle of a game of football, when he decided to part off on his own and explore the area. He had only been watching the game since the size of the others intimidated him from playing. He had managed to find a small grass opening surrounded by a few trees and looked up and around at the site. The leaves were deep green and matched the grass beneath his military boots. There were barely any clouds up in the blue sky, and the sun was high and awful warm. Several men had put on sunscreen to protect themselves from erythema solare. (1)

As he kept on walking, Carter started to hear what sounded like people talking off in the distance. He turned to his left and stood still for a moment to make sure he had not been hearing things. Sure enough, he heard the same noise again and was now certain that there was a group of people socializing with one another. Curious, he continued on his course of direction to see where these people were and what they were doing.

After about ten minutes of walking, Carter reached the place where the people were and immediately took cover, when he spotted his commanding officer, Lieutenant Dick Walters. All the men under Lieutenant Walters's command had learned to fear the man immensely. He was not forgiving nor kind towards his men. They either treated him like a god or they were severely punished and sometimes even death would be done. Carter had never witnessed any killings done by Walters, but was too afraid to say anything about it. Crossing the line with Walters was something _no one_ wanted to do if they loved their own life. At some points, the men wondered whether the Nazis or Walters terrified them more.

Walters was speaking with one of the enlisted men that he trusted. He had very few men that he considered his friends and treated them decently. Carter, for sure, was definitely _not_ one of those men. In fact, he considered himself the very much opposite of Walters's friends.

Usually, Carter was not the one to eavesdrop on people or what they did during their personal time. Something this time, though, seemed a little bit fishy. Why would Walters be discussing something with one of his men far off from the base and want no one else around to hear it? At first he thought it was just for some privacy and to make sure no one would start telling others. Knowing Walters, though, him by himself and one other person usually did not mean anything good for anybody. Carter decided he would listen in for a little bit and then leave to go back and hang out with his friends. He silently leaned over slightly from behind the tree he was hiding behind and made sure that he could not be seen by Walters. After checking that, he opened up his ears and began listening in on the conversation.

"Kill General Howards?" The enlisted man, a corporal, gasped.

"Yes, and once he's out of the way, I have a better chance of becoming general myself once I make it look like Captain Fischer was the one who killed the old geezer." Walters replied snarky.

Carter silently gulped.

Captain Gary Fischer was the leading commanding officer of the entire bombing squadron. Walters always pushed it with the older man and always was infuriated with the fact that he was not the top dog in charge. The lieutenant always made an effort to do as much harm to the enlisted men as possible whenever Fischer left him in charge while he was busy with paperwork or could not come along on a bombing mission in Germany for whatever reason. The captain was in the middle of a meeting with several other captains discussing military tactics and strategies that could advance them in the war.

Carter was a good friend of Fischer's, and never felt in danger around the man. He was tough, solid, and not afraid to speak his mind to Walters, who terrified most of the other men. The ones who did not fear him gave a little attitude sometimes, but for the most part left the lieutenant alone and minded their own business. They knew what the man was capable of and were not stupid enough to cross the enraged man.

Walters would often talk back to Fischer and throw occasional insults about the man, but knew when to lay off with the man. In fact, Fischer seemed to be the only one that could make Walters back off and leave everyone alone for a while. For that, all the men, especially Carter, were grateful for having such a brave commanding officer leading them. If it were not for him, they did not know whether they would have made it as far as they had come. Most of them worried had it not been Fischer, they would all be dead or wishing they were dead after being beaten, abused, and tormented by Walters.

It was funny, though. At first, Walters seemed like a real cool, charismatic guy that everyone would want to be friends with. After spending a few months with him, he turned into everyone's worst nightmare. He was cunning, conniving, dictative, malicious, and twisted. He made Dracula and Adolf Hitler look like choir boys compared to him. Maybe not that extreme, but the men certainly felt it at most points when in Walters's presence. They no longer questioned his commands or orders. They simply just did them.

Carter swallowed his fear of what Walters had just said and continued listening in on the two men.

"Don't you think that's a bit risky, sir? I mean, what if you're caught?" The corporal asked.

Walters snapped his head towards the corporal and glared at him coldly.

"Why? Thinking about telling someone, Corporal?" Walters hissed.

"No, sir! Not at all, sir! I was just concerned is all!" The corporal cried, horrified.

Walters's face softened and nodded.

"If we play our cards right, no one will ever suspect a thing, but that man's gotta go. The longer he's here, the longer I remain a lieutenant." Walters paused in pacing then snapped his eyes back to the corporal's. He looked furious. "You know what I think about being a lieutenant, Corporal?"

The corporal gulped and tried his best from shaking under the look of his commanding officer.

"I'd rather you told me, Lieutenant," he said, trembling.

Walters picked up a pretty thick stick from the ground. He snapped it like a knife slicing butter then chucked it across to the far other side of where they stood. He immediately turned back to the corporal, and his face turned a light shade of pink.

" _THAT'S_ what I think of it!" Walters snarled.

"Absolutely, sir. I think it's terrible the way they degrade you!" The corporal spoke out of fear.

"Which is why I need both Fischer and Howards out of the way in order to succeed in getting to the top."

"But how are you gonna get away with it, sir? Certainly General Howards is very well protected."

"I don't know yet, but if Captain Fischer interferes at any moment for whatever reason," Walters paused and turned back to look at the corporal with a serious look to his face. "Kill him."

Carter silently gasped. Kill Captain Fischer? He could not understand why anyone in their right mind would kill a nice man like Fischer. He always looked out for others, always kept calm and level headed in crises, and was highly intelligent in his field of work and knew what he was doing always. Walters _had_ to be insane if he was so willing to kill off Captain Fischer and General Howards in order to be promoted from Lieutenant to God knows _what_ he hoped for.

"So...what are you going to do now?" The corporal asked wary.

Walters thought to himself for a long while then grabbed something inside his jacket and pulled it out at the corporal. It was a pistol. Seeing Walters pointing it at him made the young corporal gulp. Carter's jaw dropped. He sure hoped what was about to happen was not what he thought was about to happen.

"Sir?" The corporal gasped.

"It's a _shame_ I have to do this," Walters said. "But you know far too much. I can't risk you letting my cover blow."

"I swear, Lieutenant Walters, I won't breathe a single word about this, not one!" The corporal pleaded.

"If only I could trust you in that, but I can't. Therefore, you have to go."

Carter silently started to make a run for it, but not before he heard a gunshot three times. Carter shuddered hearing the gun go off. He knew that the corporal was dead. With Walters, it would have been a surprise had the corporal been spared. Yet at the same time, Carter always expected Walters to be more humane for some reason. He just could not grasp the concept of people being so evil. That, and he did not understand it at all. It made no sense to him as to why people were so evil or why they felt that it was okay to act like that. Maybe he would never know, but all he knew was that he did not approve of it and that he needed to tell Captain Fischer about what was going on right away...before it was too late.

* * *

Fischer was making rounds around the base making sure that everyone was doing alright and behaving themselves.

He was about 6'4", a little older than Carter, and very slim. He had confidence in his walk and twinkling green eyes. He was a man of courage, strength, wisdom, and optimism. He had a strong charisma and was always there if one of his men needed him. Most of the time, it regarded Walters and him bothering one of the enlisted men. It amazed most of the men of how Fischer was so calm and cool handling the hot headed lieutenant. When most, if not all, feared Walters, Fischer found him no competition and always made it clear to the man that the rest of the crew was not to be threatened nor felt like they were in harm's way. That was one of the things people most liked about Fischer. He was not afraid of hardly anything.

He was about to make his second lap, when an out of breath Carter ran up to his side and started tugging on his leather bomber jacket.

The captain turned his head and looked at Carter with deep concern.

"Sergeant Carter, are you alright?" Fischer asked, his eyes gaping.

"I'm alright, Captain...it's just...I…" Carter stopped to catch his breath. After collecting himself, he turned to Fischer and looked at him helplessly. "Can we talk somewhere in private, sir? I don't want the others to hear what I have to tell you."

"Of course, Sergeant. Come with me," Fischer said, friendly.

The two men headed into Fischer's quarters. The young captain gestured to Carter to take a seat on his bed. Once Carter got comfy on the long bed, Fischer sat across from him on the sofa that was in his quarters. He rubbed his hands together then gave the young sergeant his full attention.

"What's going on, kid?" Fischer asked.

Carter was silent for a while. He looked over his shoulders a couple times making sure no one else was around. Finally, he let out a sigh and opened his mouth.

"It's about Lieutenant Walters, sir," Carter said softly.

Fischer closed his eyes and let out a breath of frustration.

"What's he doing _now_?" Fischer asked irritated. The brash lieutenant made his skin crawl and always seemed to be causing trouble for the enlisted men, which the captain was not thrilled about.

"Captain…" Carter swallowed a knot in his throat. "Lieutenant Walters wants to...he's planning on...he wants to…" Carter again looked around to make sure no one was around before finishing his thought. "Kill General Howards."

"Kill General Howards!" Fischer exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

"Sssssshhhhhhhhhhhh! He'll hear you, sir!" Carter cried.

"He wants to kill the _General_?!" Fischer whispered frantically.

"That's what I heard him tell Corporal Wyatt before...he shot him."

"He shot Corporal Wyatt? Why?!"

"Walters was afraid that he would rat him out, so he killed him right there."

Fischer ran his fingers through his hair then slapped his cap back on.

"Oh, that man's done it now." Fischer grumbled harshly.

"What are we gonna do, Captain?" Carter asked worried.

"I've gotta tell Colonel Wallace back at headquarters. Sergeant, whatever you do, do _not_ , under _any_ circumstances, repeat this information to anyone else. This stays just between you and me. The less people who know the better."

"What about you, Captain? Lieutenant Walters says he'll kill you too if you try to interfere with his plans."

"I'll be alright, Sergeant. Just worry about yourself, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Yes, sir,"

Fischer nodded.

"Come on, let's go. The sooner we get Colonel Wallace notified, the better."

Carter nodded and followed Fischer out of his quarters closing the door behind them.

* * *

It was around 10:30PM, and Carter was heading back to his quarters after a long meeting with the other enlisted men in his squadron about possible tactics to use in upcoming bombing assignments. He was a couple meters from his destination, when someone clamped a hand over Carter's mouth and pulled him inside their quarters. When they finally got inside, Carter turned and finally got a glimpse of who it was. His eyes gaped, when he saw that it was no other than Walters. His eyes were fogged over and looked like he was an immortal being. His humanity had been lost altogether which frightened Carter deeply. The young sergeant swallowed a lump in his throat and tried opening his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out.

"Carter, Carter, Carter," Walters sneered. "Will you ever learn not to mess around with me?"

"What, what, what are you talking about, Lieutenant?" Carter stuttered. He was shaking beneath the lieutenant's stare.

"I heard you talking to Captain Fischer regarding my plans, dummy! I stood by the open window and listened in on you two."

"I, I, I don't know what you mean, Lieutenant."

Walters snapped around and walked over to a coat closet. He opened the door, pulled something out, then closed the door again to reveal him holding Fischer around the neck. The lieutenant grabbed a survival knife out of his pocket and held it close to the captain's neck. Fischer was shaking and fighting back from screaming. His arms and legs were tied together with rope, so escape was out of the question.

Carter stared in horror at what he was seeing. He had to do something. He had to save Fischer, but how?

"Let him go!" Carter cried in fear.

"Sergeant, run! Get help! He's mad, Sergeant!" Fischer exclaimed. The young captain gasped, when he felt Walters bring the knife closer to his neck.

"Leave him alone! _I'm_ the one who told him!" Carter begged.

"I know you're the one who told him, which is why _you're_ gonna watch him die!" Walters snapped.

"Don't kill him, please! We won't tell anybody, not a single person! Swear!"

"I don't believe you!"

"No, it's true! I'll prove it right now, if you let Captain Fischer go!"

Walters thought about it for a minute, or what Carter hoped was him thinking. Honestly, the lieutenant just looked like he was staring off at something and in a completely different world. His eyes were glassy and did not even look human anymore.

Carter swallowed another knot down his throat. He hesitated to speak, but did so after waiting so long for an answer.

"Lieutenant..." Carter asked, worried.

Walters shook his head with an eerie grin on his face.

"Nope, he's gotta go. He'd become a problem sooner or later anyways. Might as well rid off of him now, huh?"

"Please, Lieutenant! Don't hurt Captain Fischer, please! Let him go!" Carter begged. His eyes were brimmed with water.

"Sergeant, run! Forget about me!" Fischer yelled.

"I'm not gonna let you die, Captain!" Carter replied.

"Oh, you're not gonna let _anything_ happen, or you'll be next on the list, get it?!" Walter warned.

Carter gulped and nodded.

"Yes, sir," he shuddered.

Walters snapped his head back to Fischer and snarled at him.

"Now about you," Walters hissed.

"Please, let Sergeant Carter go! He's just a kid!" Fischer pleaded.

"You leave Rat to me! You won't be here to help him much longer anyways!" Walters barked.

Carter closed his eyes shut and lifted his shoulders up to make himself appear small. He kept hoping it would protect him or Fischer from any oncoming harm. Sadly, he knew there was nothing left to be done for Fischer. If he left, he'd be killed along with Fischer. If he stayed, Fischer still died. There was no third option, and Carter had to sadly accept that fate.

Walters took the knife away from Fischer's neck and stabbed the captain in the back to begin his brutal murder.

Carter the whole time flinched, shuddered, and fought back screams every time he heard Fischer cry out in pain. Every time he heard the knife stabbing another part of the brave captain's body. Eventually the screaming turned into gasps, then into whispers crying out for Colonel Wallace, then it was completely silent. The young sergeant was terrified of opening his eyes, but had to eventually. He saw what was in front of him and sucked in a huge breath of air. His eyes almost left his head.

There on the ground was their commanding officer, his friend, blood was splattered everywhere on Fischer, the floor, the nearby furniture, and on the knife that Walters held in his bloody hands.

Carter was frozen in his spot. As much as he wanted to look away, he could not. His body refused to. He was in complete shock of what had just happened. He had just witnessed a commanding officer commit the crime of fragging. One of the most, if not the most, highest level of crimes possible to commit in the military. He looked up at Walters and saw the man with a blank expression on his face, then it became angry. The lieutenant marched his way to Carter and looked the frightened man straight in the eye.

"You repeat this to anyone, and I mean _anyone_ , I'll have you watch while I slowly kill _another_ person you care about! Do I make myself clear?!" Walters barked.

Carter nodded while shaking.

"Yes, Lieu...tenant Walters," Carter said inaudibly.

Walters kept his stare on Carter a little longer, then turned sharp on his boot and went into another room to clean off his knife and hands.

Poor Carter fell to the ground and again looked at what was once his lively, charismatic, courageous friend and top commanding officer now a lifeless, bloody corpse. He had to tell someone, but Walters's threat had been made perfectly clear, and Carter was not willing to lose a loved one because he was too afraid and croaked under fear. What he had witnessed and seen that night was too horrendous to come clean. Despite his commanding officer and friend being killed before his eyes, the idea of speaking up scared the living daylights out of him. No, it had to remain a secret. From that moment on, Carter promised to himself that by under any means, he would _never_ tell another soul what he saw that night. The truth regarding Fischer's murder would be just between him and Walters. He had to protect his loved ones, and that he would just do.

* * *

(1) Erythema solare - sun burn


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

( _Present Day: Stalag 13; Hammelburg, Germany_ )

Carter was shaking and fighting back from crying by the time he finished his story. Hogan was left speechless and stunned at what his sergeant had just told him. He could not comprehend why someone would commit such a brutal, disgusting, cold-hearted murder. And to top it, Walters had made Carter _witness_ that cold-blooded murder.

Hogan's lip quivered and was finally able to make his head softly shake. He felt horrible for Carter. No one should have to carry around such a dark memory in secret because of a threat of killing one of their loved ones. He was disgusted by what Carter's old commanding officer had done to him.

"Carter," Hogan barely spoke. He could not find the right words to say. What the hell did you tell someone who had just shared this kind of news with you?

"Colonel, please don't die! Please! I won't be able to _live_ if something happens to you!" The young man wept.

Hogan got to his feet and approached Carter slowly. He knelt down in front of the sergeant and looked at him with kindness and sympathy.

"Carter, look at me... _please_ ," he softly begged.

"I can't lose you, Colonel, I can't. I'll die without you."

"Carter...please look at me."

Carter sniffled, opened his eyes, then lifted his head to look into his commanding officer's soft, brown eyes.

"I promise, with every fiber of my being, I will not die. I'm gonna be just fine. So is Newkirk, Kinch, LeBeau, and everyone else in Stalag 13. Even Klink I promise will be alright," Hogan said kindly.

"Colonel, he'll kill you. He could be listening to us somewhere right _now_!" Carter whimpered.

Hogan got to his feet and sat down beside Carter on the bunk. He wrapped an arm around him, hoping it would make him feel less scared. He wished like crazy that he could take Carter's fear away from him, but he couldn't. All he could do was try to make his fear as mild as possible.

"If Walters is listening to us from somewhere, we'll figure out a way to stop him. We always stop the bad guys. Look at all those times we stopped Hochstetter. We've stopped him more than once. And other Gestapo, thieves, assassins-" Carter cut Hogan off.

"Hochstetter isn't like Walters, Colonel. Hochstetter has _reasons_ he kills people. They're not _good_ reasons, but he has 'em, Colonel."

"I know, I know. My point is that we're gonna stop Walters, and I promise that he's never gonna hurt you like that ever again. Not with me around here." Hogan gave a gentle smile at Carter, hoping it would make him feel better.

The young sergeant wiped away his tears and looked back into Hogan's face. He wondered how his commanding officer always knew what to say and do to make him feel less scared. With Hogan around, Carter felt like he could conquer a whole _army_ of Hochstetters.

"Colonel," he asked, shaky. "Why is Walters so cruel?"

Hogan sighed. He decided it would be best to tell Carter what he and Kinch assumed was wrong with Walters. After everything he'd gone through, he felt that the young man deserved to know and to know first, too.

"Carter, Kinch and I believe Walters has sociopathy." (1)

Carter looked at Hogan perplexed.

"What's sociopathy, Colonel?"

"It's a mental disorder. It causes a man to act in the most violent, cruel, obscene ways possible for no complete reason. It's basically like turning on and off a switch at random, unexpected moments."

"He's sick?"

"I'm afraid so."

"How sick _is_ he, Colonel?"

Hogan shook his head.

"I don't know. My guess would be pretty ill to have him act and behave the way he does currently. The way he makes you panic and shut down whenever he enters a room."

"Do Newkirk and Louis know...about Walters's condition?"

"Not yet. I wanted to tell you first. You deserved it after everything that man's put you through."

"I just can't understand it, Colonel. _How_ can someone think that it's alright to act like that? I ask myself the same thing everyday I wake up and think about this war and Hitler. What makes them think that being mean is alright? Don't they know how much it hurts other people?"

"I'm afraid Walters doesn't _have_ that ability. A part of his disorder is that he can't feel empathy or guilt. He feels nothing in a sense."

"So, he just thinks of morbid thoughts and ideas and believes that they're alright?"

"That's a good way of describing it, yes."

"But why?!"

Hogan shook his head.

"The only thing I know is that a part of Walters's brain doesn't function like ours does which causes him to behave the way he does. That's as much of an answer I can give you. I'm no psychiatrist nor am I a doctor, Carter."

"Will he get better, Colonel?"

Again, the American officer shook his head.

"No, he won't...in fact, he's only gonna get worse."

"Is it gonna kill him?"

"No, but it could make Walters act in some way that _could_ get him killed."

Carter shook his head and closed his eyes.

"Boy, that's sure sad. No one, not even Lieutenant Walters deserves to go through that."

"It's very sad, but being ill doesn't make what he did to you, Corporal Wyatt, or Captain Fischer alright."

"But, Colonel, what if he tries…" Carter did not get time to finish his sentence.

"Walters isn't gonna kill me. He may try, but he won't succeed. I'm gonna be just fine, Carter. I promise."

"Cross your heart?"

Hogan smiled faintly.

"Cross my heart," he said softly.

Carter gave a soft smile back to Hogan.

"Good," he said.

There was a brief moment of silence between them, when the sergeant spoke again.

"Colonel, are you gonna tell Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau what happened with Walters?"

"Not unless you want me to, Carter. I won't reveal that information unless I have your permission to do so."

"I'd rather you kept it secret...for _now_ , at least. I don't wanna risk putting you guys in danger. You're already in danger as it is."

Hogan smirked.

"Don't worry about me, Carter. I can take care of myself. It's _my_ job to protect _you_ guys. Not the other way around."

"You may think that, but we're still gonna do it anyway, sir."

Hogan silently chuckled and patted Carter's shoulder.

"Come on. I think the guys were setting up a game of gin before Walters interrupted everything. Once we get rid of him, you can help me make sure LeBeau and Newkirk don't kill one another."

"Sure thing, Colonel."

Both men left Hogan's quarters and closed the door behind them. What they did not know was that there was a shadow outside the colonel's window in the night, and it had heard every word exchanged between them.

* * *

Morning came around, and Hogan had ordered for Newkirk and LeBeau to meet in his quarters after roll call had ended. Kinch and Carter were socializing with Schultz outside the barracks, while the fluffy guard took his 'morning break'.

Newkirk sat on Hogan's lower bunk bed while LeBeau stood in between Hogan's desk and the bunks as they waited for their commanding officer to come in. Hogan was pouring himself a cup of coffee out in the main area before coming in.

"What do you think the Colonel wants, Pierre?" LeBeau asked.

"I don't know, Louis. He didn't seem to be upset with us for some reason. Doesn't mean he isn't." Newkirk answered, wondering the same thing as the little Frenchman.

"Do you think it has something to do with that filthy bosche of a lieutenant, Walters?"

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"He's lucky _mon Colonel_ is around. If he weren't, he would've faced my wrath already. No one picks on André but _us_!"

"Sure would like to know what that Yank did to me mate Andrew that has him so terrified of him."

"You heard the Colonel: he's not telling us unless Carter gives him strict permission to do so."

"You think Walters knows Carter told the Gov'nor what happened?"

"I sure hope not, Pierre. The Colonel could be in serious danger, if he knows."

At that moment, the door to Hogan's room opened and the American officer himself walked in and closed the door behind him. He walked over to his window then turned around and faced the two men before him. Hogan took a sip of his coffee and continued looking at them.

"What is it you wanted to see us about, Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked.

Hogan glanced back to make sure his window was closed. Satisfied, he turned back to his men.

"I wanted to inform you two on the information London sent back to us regarding Lieutenant Walters. Kinch and Carter already know what it is, which is why I did not order them to come to this meeting." He began.

"What is it, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"Did you know that in 1935, Walters was admitted into a psychiatric hospital after his first military assignment?" Hogan questioned.

"No way!" Newkirk gaped.

"Is it true?" LeBeau wondered.

The colonel took another drink of coffee, then nodded.

"Yes. He was released a little while afterwards seeming that treatments worked. He was then assigned to Carter's bombing squadron," he said.

"Well, apparently their thoughts were wrong," Newkirk grumbled.

"What did they say was wrong with him?" LeBeau asked, interested in this latest news.

"They didn't, but they found a list of the symptoms Walters was suffering when admitted into the hospital. Kinch and I believe that Walters is suffering from a mental disorder called sociopathy."

Newkirk shook his head.

"I've heard of it. It's not something you wanna get diagnosed with."

"What is sociopathy?" LeBeau questioned.

"It's a mental disorder, as I said. As for what it does, it causes an afflicted person to act in deranged, bizarre, and horrific ways such as unexplained murders, extreme violence, and a lack of empathy towards others and ability to feel guilt or remorse." Hogan answered the little Frenchman.

"Is it fatal, Colonel?"

"No, but it _might_ cause Walters to do something fatal to himself or others."

" _Sacré chats_!"

"We gotta get rid of him, Gov'nor," Newkirk said.

"But how do we do it?" LeBeau asked, worried.

"We have a couple options. We can get him transferred to another stalag camp, admit him into a psychiatric clinic here in Germany, or send him back to London and have them handle him," Hogan laid out.

"Sending him to London seems to be a bit more challenging than the other two." Newkirk remarked.

"Why don't we do one of the others, Colonel? It's less dangerous for us," LeBeau said.

"Perhaps, LeBeau. After all, we have no idea what kind of things this guy's capable of. The only problem is that we're gonna have to prove to Klink somehow that Walters is either a problem here in the camp or suffering from a severe mental illness and needs immediate medical treatment." Hogan added.

"It'll certainly be a challenge, sir," Newkirk said.

"LeBeau, get Carter and Kinch. I gotta meet with all of you to explain what we'll do further regarding this situation," Hogan said, before taking another drink of coffee.

" _Oui, Colonel_ ," LeBeau said, and hurried out of the room.

* * *

Schultz sat outside on the bench in front of barracks two with Kinch and Carter surrounding him. They were talking about an upcoming visit from General Albert Burkhalter, Klink's commanding officer from Berlin. Every time Burkhalter came around, Klink went crazy with trying to impress him and get on his good side. He was always hopeful that one day he'd be promoted to general, but so far it had proven wrong.

"Boy, Schultz. Why's Klink so nervous about General Burkhalter visiting? He's not _this_ bad when Burkhalter's coming." Carter wondered.

"The Kommandant says that General Burkhalter knows of the new lieutenant in Stalag 13. He wants to meet him and see how he is compared to Colonel Hogan." Schultz answered, shaking his head disapprovingly.

" _No one_ compares to Colonel Hogan...no siree," Carter said, proud. There was not a better commanding officer or man in his life than Hogan was.

"Why does he wanna compare the Colonel to Lieutenant Walters?" Kinch asked, concerned.

" _That_ , I do not know. The Kommandant would not say," Schultz said.

"When's he coming out here, Schultz?" Carter asked.

"In another week or so. The General is currently in Kiel." Schultz answered.

" _Kiel_. That's quite a drive back to Berlin," Kinch said.

"You think Berlin's a long drive; it's even longer from Kiel to here," Carter commented.

Kinch nodded.

The barracks door opened, and LeBeau came outside.

" _Mon Colonel_ wants to see you guys," he said.

"Did we do something wrong?" Carter asked, worried.

"No, _mon ami_. Nothing like that." LeBeau reassured his friend.

"Oh, okay. We'll talk to you later, Schultz," Carter said.

"You boys are planning some of your monkey business, I know it!" Schultz scolded.

"You wanna know what it is, Schultzie?!" LeBeau asked, faking excitement.

"Ha... no."

Kinch smirked and shook his head.

"Let me guess, Schultz. You know nothing?"

"I know nothing, noooooottthhhing!" Schultz cried.

Kinch shook his head again and followed LeBeau inside with Carter trailing behind. The three of them entered into Hogan's room and closed the door.

"What's up, Colonel?" Kinch asked.

"We need a plan to get rid of Walters. The longer he's here, the more of a threat he is to you guys and the operation," Hogan said, wrapping his arms around himself.

Carter gaped at the colonel and swallowed a knot down. He was starting to turn pale.

Hogan saw the young sergeant's reaction and gave him a kind smile.

"I'm gonna be fine, Carter. I promised, remember?"

The young man returned the same smile and nodded softly.

"What do we do first, Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked, ready for immediate action.

"I say we hand him over to Hochstetter and let him do the work for us." LeBeau hissed.

"I like it, Louis!" Newkirk agreed.

"Make that three." Kinch crossed his arms and grinned darkly.

"We're not turning Walters into the Gestapo," Hogan ordered.

"You're gonna let that bloody bastard go free after what he did to me mate, Andrew?!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"Hochstetter is a _blessing_ for him compared to what I'd do to him!" LeBeau snarled.

"I know what he did to poor Carter, and I loathe the man for what he did, but no one deserves to be under the hands of the Gestapo." Hogan replied firmly.

Newkirk shook his head.

"You're a better person than I am, Gov'nor."

" _Oui_ ," LeBeau agreed.

"It's alright, guys," Carter said.

"It's _not_ alright, André. That filthy bosche should pay for what he did to you!"

"And pay he shall, but not by turning him over to Hochstetter. We'll punish him in a _humane_ way," Hogan said.

They sighed and nodded reluctantly.

"Alright, Gov'nor." Newkirk mourned.

" _Oui, mon Colonel_ ," LeBeau said.

"We'll go with your method, Colonel," Kinch said.

"Good," Hogan said flatly. "Now about Walters."

"Why don't we just send him back to London, Colonel?" Carter suggested.

"It's too dangerous for us and the operation, Carter, but normally I would do just that."

"We're certainly stuck in a rut we are with this one." Newkirk muttered.

"We either gotta get him transferred to another stalag or convince Klink that he's ill...but how?" Hogan wondered, as he began pacing his room.

"Just a question, Colonel," LeBeau said. "Do you think Walters knows that André told you...you know?"

"No, I don't. I was cautious and made sure no one else was around before Carter told me. Why?" Hogan answered.

"Just wondering was all."

"I sure hope you're right, Gov'nor, because if he does know, we're in a huge heap of trouble." Newkirk replied.

* * *

(1) I wanted to do psychopathy for Walters's mental illness, but I don't believe the term 'psychopathy' became aware to the public until later, sometime during or after World War II. Correct me in the reviews if I'm wrong, but I believe it used to be called 'sociopathy' in the 1800s' until then.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

Walters wandered around the compound in his usual routine which frightened many of the prisoners. The way he presented himself made the other men feel like he was some demonic ghost or possessed soul from the depths of Hell sent to wreak havoc on all of them. The lieutenant kept to himself as he thought out the events that had happened in less than 24 hours.

He was livid with Carter. He had made the young sergeant swear to never tell another soul and he tells that dreadful colonel he looked up to so well. Hogan was violating his position on the whole matter. Carter was _his_ man, not Hogan's. He could not understand why Carter would look up to such a cocky, stuck up, rotten man in the first place. Hogan was weak, stupid, snotty, and above all, a pain in Walters's rear end. Hogan had to be removed, but how? He had to plan it carefully and do it at the most least expected moment. He knew Hogan had those other morons around him all the time: the snarky Englishman, the bratty Frenchman, and the African American who Walters just despised because of his race. He would deal with Carter and the other three later. For now, Hogan was his main threat and needed to be gotten rid of permanently. Walters then gave a wicked grin, realizing that if he killed Hogan, _he_ would be the new Senior POW Officer of Stalag 13. _He_ would have the power over the prisoners, _he_ would be in control of them, and _he_ could do whatever he wanted regarding the men currently under Hogan's command.

At that moment, he made a plan. He would first kill Hogan, then take over the prisoners of Stalag 13 as the new Senior POW and make them his slaves. He would make them do everything at his command. If anyone had anything to do or say about it, he would execute them the minute it happened. It was brilliant! The best plan he had ever thought of and was determined to pursue it. But where would he get a weapon from? He had a knife, but thought that was too easy for Hogan. He wanted to make the colonel suffer... _slow_ and _painfully_. He glanced around the camp and spotted the German guards. _They_ had weapons on them.

He began searching for what looked like the easiest guard to target. It was then he spotted a small, withering corporal being scolded by Schultz. He nodded and shook in fear. He wasn't even a soldier in Walters's eyes. He had to be a newbie at the POW camp.

Walters gave a malicious smile, knowing his first target in order to achieve his ultimate goal. He would wait until later in the evening when everyone had gone to bed. He would make his move then. For now, he continued walking around the camp and started plotting the rest of his twisted plan in killing Hogan and taking over as the new Senior POW.

* * *

Newkirk, LeBeau, Carter, and Kinch all sat around the table and tried to think of a plan on how to get rid of Walters once and for all without killing him off like they all wished to. Carter just wanted Walters far away from camp, but he did not want to kill the man. Like Hogan said the night before; he was sick. He was sick with a horrible, dreaded mental disorder. Walters did not know what he was doing was wrong. Part of his brain couldn't work like it was supposed to and what was worse was that there was no cure for it. It would just continue to grow worse until the lieutenant did something that could be fatal to someone else or himself for that matter. Hogan was right in punishing him in a humane way. Nobody, not even Walters, deserved to suffer under the implacable, malignant methods of the Gestapo. _Especially_ if that Gestapo was no other than Major Wolfgang Hochstetter himself.

"I still say we kill the bastard." Newkirk hissed.

"I agree, but _mon Colonel_ will _never_ allow us to do it." LeBeau grumbled.

"We'll have to just find a different way to get rid of him," Kinch said.

"I'd like to pummel the man after what he's done to Andrew." Newkirk snarled.

"It's alright, guys. Besides, he doesn't know what he's doing is wrong," Carter said.

"You actually taking that ruddy bastard's side after everything he put ya through?!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"No, but it's like Colonel Hogan said; he's sick. It's not like he's doing it on purpose or anything." Carter answered, twiddling his fingers.

"André, it doesn't matter whether the filthy bosche is sick or not. He's intentionally doing these things in his mind sight. It gives him no right to be doing what he does whether he has a mental disorder or no," LeBeau said.

"Louis's right, Carter. Walters can't do that stuff whether suffering from an incurable disorder or not." Kinch added.

The young man was silent for a moment and looked down at his fingers.

"I guess you're right, Kinch," he softly said.

"Besides, Andrew. You're scared out of your mind that he's gonna try and kill the Gov'nor. If he were to succeed in killing the Gov'nor, would you be so forgiving still?" Newkirk asked.

"How could you ask such a thing?! Of _course_ I wouldn't forgive him! No one, and I mean _no one_ , hurts Colonel Hogan! No siree, I won't allow it to happen. I'll kill Hochstetter before that happens!"

"Looks like we all agree on something. We protect _mon Colonel_ at all costs," LeBeau said.

"I'm all in on that one, Louis," Newkirk said.

"Make that three," Kinch said.

" _Four_ ," Carter added in.

"As much as I appreciate it, I'm afraid I disagree," a familiar voice said behind them.

The four men all turned to see Hogan standing in front of his bedroom door with his arms and legs crossed, looking at them.

"How much did you hear, Colonel?" Kinch asked.

"Enough," Hogan said. He walked over to his men and looked at all of them kindly. "Look, I think it's very kind that you guys are wanting to protect me from Walters, but I don't want any of you to go near this guy. I couldn't live with knowing he did something horrible to one of you. It's bad enough he hurt Carter like he did."

"I'd still like to know what that bastard did to me mate, Andrew." Newkirk grumbled.

Hogan looked at Carter, who looked back at him. He could read it in the sergeant's eyes and nothing more needed to be said.

"I told you guys I won't say what unless Carter says it's alright for me to do so. I won't breach such confidentiality." The colonel answered, looking at his men carefully.

"Will you be careful too, Colonel?" Carter asked worried. He could not shake the feeling that something horrible was going to happen to his commanding officer, now that he knew of his secret.

Hogan smiled gently.

"I'll be careful, Carter," he answered softly.

Carter nodded. "Good."

"Gov'nor, why don't you let one of us guard you? You're already a nuisance to the man." Newkirk wondered.

"Which is exactly why I don't want you guys to try anything without my permission nor without my presence. He might try something to get to me, and if so, I want none of you to try and stop him," Hogan ordered.

"Colonel!" Carter cried. His anxiety had immediately been brought back up again.

"Are you kidding?!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Bloody Yank's _bound_ to kill you, sir," Newkirk said, astonished.

"I want you all to promise me that if something happens to me, you won't try and stop it. Just do whatever you can to get rid of him afterwards...and that _doesn't_ mean killing him." Hogan continued.

"Colonel, no! I won't let him kill you, I won't!" Carter pleaded.

"Walters isn't gonna kill me, Carter, but if it does happen, which it won't, don't interfere. I don't want any of you to get hurt or worse."

"If he manages to kill you, Gov'nor, I don't promise anything. Just that Walters better sleep with one eye open." Newkirk growled. Just imagining Walters killing Hogan made the Englishman want to murder the lieutenant.

Carter had gone completely pale and started hyperventilating.

"You alright, Andrew?" Newkirk asked, worried.

The sergeant did not answer. He snapped to look at Hogan with panic in his eyes. The last time he saw it was when Carter was terrified of Walters trying to hurt the American officer the night he was in his trance. It was different this time, though. It was an intense, overwhelming fear that was consuming him this time.

"Carter, are you alright?" Hogan asked, concerned. He was fighting back his own fear for Carter. He had never seen one of his men look like the way his youngest team member looked to him at that moment.

The young sergeant's lip quivered and continued hyperventilating. What happened next was what scared the four of them the most.

"Colonel!" Carter screamed. "Colonel!"

Hogan hurried to Carter and knelt in front of him. The young sergeant gripped onto Hogan's shoulders and locked them there.

"LeBeau, get Wilson and hurry. Tell him it's an emergency," the colonel ordered.

" _Oui, Colonel_ ," LeBeau said, and hurried out of the barracks to find the camp medic.

"Carter, you're alright. Everything's alright. I'm right here, kid. You gotta calm down, Carter. Everything's alright, I promise," Hogan softly said.

"He'll kill you. He's gonna kill you, Colonel!" Carter cried. Tears were streaming down his face.

"I'm right here, Carter. I'm not gonna die, no one's gonna kill me. I promised you that."

LeBeau and Wilson hurried back into the barracks. Hogan turned his head to look at them.

"Joe, do something, please."

"Just keep talking to him, Colonel. He'll calm down on his own eventually. If he doesn't, I'll give him a sedative to make him sleep," Wilson said.

Hogan nodded and went back to comforting Carter in any way he could.

"We're all right here, Carter: me, LeBeau, Newkirk, Kinch, and Wilson. We're all alright. I'm not gonna let Walters hurt you anymore. I'm gonna be just fine. You're alright, Carter, I promise."

It felt like hours to all of them, but Carter eventually slowed his breathing and loosened his grip on Hogan's shoulders. His face went back to normal, but his tears did not stop.

"Colonel, please don't die, please! I can't lose you, Colonel, please don't die, please!" Carter begged.

"I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. I swear on my oath as an officer."

Carter silently wept a little, though tried wiping his tears away.

Hogan got to his feet, sat down besides Carter, and wrapped an arm around his young sergeant.

"It's alright. I'm just fine," he said, giving a soft smile.

Carter nodded and let out a deep breath.

"What the bloody hell just happened, Joe?" Newkirk gasped.

"A panic attack. It's common when someone is exposed to a paralyzing fear of theirs or remembering a traumatic event." Wilson answered.

"Is it bad, Joe?" Hogan asked, worried.

"No, just very uncomfortable is all. Some can be worse than others."

"I don't get it, Colonel," Carter said meekly. Hogan turned to look at him. "That's never happened to me before. Why did it start now?"

Wilson could not help but give a small smile.

"It just shows you how much Colonel Hogan means to you, Carter. In your mind, losing him is basically destroying you from the inside out."

"It looks bloody terrifying," Newkirk said.

"It _is_ terrifying, Newkirk. It's a sudden attack of intense fear that causes high amounts of adrenaline to be pumped into the blood, which causes a panic attack to be worse than it actually is. Nothing life threatening, but certainly frightening to experience. More for the person suffering from it than the ones witnessing it." Wilson replied.

"But he'll be alright?" Hogan wanted confirming.

"Yes, Carter will be alright. Just try and stay away from the topic that scares him as much as possible."

"That's gonna be hard considering we have to get rid of Walters," Kinch said.

"Discussing the idea of getting Walters out of Stalag 13 is one thing; it's the reason _why_ you're getting rid of him that should remain unspoken of as much as possible," Wilson informed Hogan's second in command.

"Thanks, Joe," Newkirk said, relieved.

Wilson nodded and left the barracks, closing the door behind him.

"Are you alright, kid?" Kinch asked softly.

"I'm alright, Kinch," Carter said, sighing. "Just tired."

"I wouldn't blame ya. That looked awful, mate." Newkirk replied.

"I'm gonna go show that filthy bosche what happens when you mess with _mes amis_." LeBeau hissed.

"I told you _no one_ is gonna mess with Walters unless given strict orders, do I make myself clear?" Hogan asked harsh.

Kinch, LeBeau, and Newkirk sighed.

"Yes, Colonel," the three sadly said.

"So...how do we get rid of him, Colonel?" Carter asked.

Hogan sighed heavily.

"Carter, when I think of that answer, I'll let you know," he said, tired.

* * *

It was late that night, and after everyone had gone to bed, Walters rose from his bunk. He was still dressed in his uniform and quietly made his way towards the door. Checking the area once more for anyone watching him, he left the barracks.

LeBeau, faking to be asleep, opened his eyes, hearing the door to the barracks close, and jumped down onto the ground. He made his way over to the window near his bunk and wiped away a patch of condensation on the window to look out into the compound. He saw Walters wandering around, but could not figure out what he was doing. After watching him for a moment, he gasped softly, realizing what the man was about to do.

Stealthily making his way out of the sight of any Germans, Walters made his way to the Kommandantur's where the same corporal Schultz had been scolding earlier was keeping guard from anyone breaking in. The young corporal started walking around the building to make sure all perimeters were clear of any intruders. He was glancing over the corner of the building, when Walters covered the corporal's mouth and took him behind the Kommandantur's, away from anyone to watch the two of them. The young German corporal was screaming for help, though being muffled, did not attract any attention.

Walters took out his knife with his free hand and swung it down at the corporal. The young man gave another muffled scream, then fell silent.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

Morning came around, and the prisoners of barracks two barreled out for morning roll call.

" _Mon Colonel_ , I've gotta talk to you." LeBeau begged, following Hogan out the door.

"Tell me later, LeBeau. Let's get through roll call first," Hogan said, walking to his spot.

"But it's important, _mon Colonel_."

"It can wait until after roll call, LeBeau. I've got a lot on my mind, right now."

"But," LeBeau stopped, when Hogan turned his head and glared at the little Frenchman. LeBeau knew that it was no longer open for discussion and sighed. " _Oui, Colonel_ ," he sadly said. He looked over at Walters and sneered at him, while shaking his head. "Filthy bosche; just wait until the Kommandant finds out what you've done."

"What did you say, Louis?" Newkirk asked.

"Nothing, Pierre. I'll tell you later." LeBeau answered. He sneered once more at Walters, then went back to standing at attention for Schultz to count all of them.

Schultz got to the end of the line, looked back down at Walters, then returned his gaze to Hogan.

"Colonel Hogan, I hope that mean lieutenant is not causing you any trouble." Schultz softly spoke.

"He's as behaved as can be, Schultz." Hogan answered, shooting a quick look at the lieutenant.

"I do not like him, he is _not_ a nice man."

"No, Schultz, that he isn't."

"How's Sergeant Carter, Colonel Hogan? I heard Sergeant Wilson tell the Kommandant that Carter had a panic attack yesterday."

Hogan gave a sincere smile.

"Don't worry, Schultz. Carter's just fine."

"Good," Schultz said, smiling back.

Hogan and Schultz were about to start a new conversation, when all of the men heard a blood curdling scream. It matched to Klink's.

"SCHULTZ!" Klink bellowed from afar.

Schultz hurried over to the back of the Kommandantur's, where the noise seemed to be coming from.

Hogan turned back to look at Kinch.

"You stay here with Carter and the rest of the guys. Make sure Walters doesn't try anything," Hogan ordered.

"Yes, Colonel," Kinch said.

Hogan hurried over to Schultz, and both of them got to Klink and Corporal Langenscheidt at the same time. They both gasped at the site they saw.

" _Herr Kommandant_!" Schultz cried.

Hogan's jaw hung from its hinges.

"My... _God_ …" was all Hogan got out of his mouth in a whisper.

Lying before them was Corporal Mueller, one of the nice guards to the prisoners, slaughtered. His neck was sliced where the aorta was located. The man was pale, cold, and dead. He had only been 22 years old.

"I found him here this morning making my rounds, _Herr Kommandant_." Langenscheidt reported, shaking his head.

"How did this happen, Schultz?" Klink asked sadly.

"I do not know, _Herr Kommandant_. He was just fine when I went to bed last night, _Herr Kommandant_." The big guard answered honestly.

"Stabbed to death, Kommandant?" Hogan asked, still spooked.

"Yes, Hogan. I'm afraid so. A good man might I say, too." Klink answered, depressed. "I will make sure he is given an award for his bravery and courageous death."

Hogan turned his head from Klink, Schultz, and Langenscheidt to make a growl. He _knew_ Walters was behind all of this, but why would he kill an innocent German corporal? Probably another one of his mental outbursts he figured. He returned his gaze to Mueller and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Kommandant. Corporal Mueller was a good man." Hogan gave his condolences.

"Thank you, Hogan. I just wish I knew who did this to him. _None_ of my guards would have done this to Corporal Mueller. None of them!"

"What if it was one of the prisoners, _Herr Kommandant_?" Schultz worried. He had a good feeling like Hogan on who was behind the murder of the young corporal.

"Impossible. No one escapes from Stalag 13! Besides, where would the prisoners get a hold of a weapon?" Klink turned to Hogan and glared at him hard. "It _better_ have not been one of the prisoners."

"I'm glad to say 'no', Kommandant." Hogan lied. He figured that it was not the time nor place to accuse Walters of killing Mueller. He could not be certain anyways no matter how likely it seemed. There was always the possibility of someone finding a way into camp and killing Mueller. A very _low_ chance of happening, but a possibility to be looked at.

"Guards!" Klink hollered.

Four of Klink's best men hurried to the Kommandant and saluted him.

"I want patrols placed all over this camp. I want roads patrolled, the woods, every man that enters this camp searched for evidence leading to the death of Corporal Mueller. I will not have another one of my men attacked. Any suspicious activity shall be reported to me immediately which will be reported to Gestapo Headquarters to Major Hochstetter at once, understood," Klink ordered.

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_ ," the highest ranking of the group, a corporal, spoke firmly.

"Good. Now get on it on the double! Disssssmiisssed!"

The four men Klink had ordered to go make patrols hurried away immediately, leaving Hogan, Schultz, and Langenscheidt to be with the Kommandant. Klink was shaking in his boots. He was mortified with the fact that one of his men had been murdered. What worried him even more was who was behind the crime and how did they manage to sneak into camp. Unknown to him, the killer was right in front of his very eyes, but Walters was too smart for Klink. The old German colonel would never suspect a thing from him. His plan was set in motion. He now just needed to find the right time and place to kill Hogan, and he would make sure that his four men would witness it happen, _especially_ Carter. Once Hogan was out of the picture, the prisoners would be his. He would make them grovel at his feet and worship him like a God. Knowing he would become the Adolf Hitler of Stalag 13 made him give a wicked grin. It did not go unnoticed by Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau, who all glared at the man and shook their heads disapprovingly.

Hogan returned followed by Schultz. Both men did not seem to look too pleased.

"All prisoners are dismissed, ordered not to bother the Kommandant, and to be confined to the barracks until further notice," Schultz sadly said. The fluffy guard sighed, shook his head, and trudged away sadly.

All the prisoners, besides Hogan and his men, dispersed to do their regular activities back inside. Hogan sighed and shook his head. The young German corporal would be missed. He had been friendly with Hogan and his men despite him only being in camp for a couple of months. He was a good man and taken at too young of an age. Mueller had a long life ahead of him after the war that could have been spent married, raising a family of his own, having a job he loved under a government that was not run by fascist leaders such as Hitler.

"Is everything alright, Colonel?" Carter asked, worried.

Hogan turned to look at his four men with a grim look to his face.

"Corporal Mueller's dead. He was murdered last night some time," Hogan sadly said.

"That's what I was trying to tell you, Colonel," LeBeau said, just as grim. "I saw Lieutenant Walters wake up last night and leave the barracks and watched him from a window. He muffled Corporal Mueller and took him behind the Kommandantur's where he was later killed I suspect."

"Dirty bastard," Newkirk hissed.

"Boy...that's a sure sad thing to happen. Corporal Mueller was so young, too, Colonel," Carter said, feeling horrible. He had liked the young corporal and had talked with him quite a bit in the time knowing him.

"What do we do, Colonel?" Kinch asked, crossing his arms.

"I don't know," Hogan answered softly. "What makes me even more worried is not knowing why Walters would kill Corporal Mueller in the first place. Walters had no ties to Mueller at all. The only explanation I can think of is Walters suffering from a sudden mental outburst, but my gut's telling me that's not it."

"What do _you_ think it is, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

Hogan shook his head with his arms wrapped around himself.

"I can't put a finger on it, but I know that I don't have a good feeling about this murder. I _know_ Walters had a reason for doing it, but I can't think of what it would be."

Newkirk sneered at the thought of the lieutenant.

"I tell ya, I ain't in much a forgiving mood for that bloke killing Corporal Mueller, Gov'nor. I say he suffers and now."

"I know we're all sad over the loss of Corporal Mueller, but killing Walters isn't going to help the fact that he's gone. It won't bring him back to us anymore than it will now." Hogan responded, slightly grinding his jaw. It angered him knowing that Walters had killed an innocent life. He still could not figure out his gut feeling. Why would Walters kill Mueller for no reason? There was nothing to connect the two of them together. Not a past history, confrontation, or anything else of the sorts. He hid back his fear that it might have to do something with one of his men, and he was willing to die at that rate, then, if it meant saving them for being hurt or killed.

"I know, Colonel, but he must pay for what he's done!" LeBeau spoke, shaking his fist.

"And we _will_ punish him, just as soon as I think of what that'll be," Hogan said.

"I still think Major Hochstetter would do him some good," Newkirk grumbled.

"Is sending him to Hochstetter all that horrible, Colonel? We could do worse to him," Kinch said.

"It's more humane than killing the man, but still a cruel method. You know very well what Hochstetter and the Gestapo are capable of doing to a man. No, Hochstetter and his men are out of the question." Hogan answered.

"What if we got General Burkhalter to help us somehow?" Carter suggested.

Hogan looked at Carter briefly before letting out a breath of air.

"It's an idea, Carter, but what would getting General Burkhalter involved do?" Hogan asked.

"Gee, Colonel; I hadn't thought of that," Carter said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Something to keep in mind, but not make it our main priority for now."

"Looks like we're back to square one, then," Newkirk groaned.

"You think we can convince Klink enough that Walters is a sociopath?" Carter questioned, curious.

"We could try, but it'll take all our efforts to do so." Hogan answered, crossing his arms.

"What do we do first, Colonel?" Kinch asked.

"Kinch, contact London. I want every scrap of information they can get on Walters and his past medical history and criminal records. It might help us in figuring out what to do regarding our situation," Hogan said.

"Yes, Colonel," Kinch hurried inside the barracks to go down to the radio room.

"Newkirk, LeBeau, I want you two to stay out here and keep watch on Walters. If he does anything suspicious, don't confront him. Come get me, and we'll go from there," Hogan told the two.

" _Oui, Colonel_ ," LeBeau said.

"Sounds like a piece of cake to me, Gov'nor," Newkirk said.

"It's piece of pie, remember?" LeBeau asked.

Newkirk simply shook his head smiling and the two of them walked off to another part of the camp leaving Hogan and Carter to themselves.

"What do you want me to do, Colonel?" Carter asked, hoping he could do something to help the efforts.

Hogan smiled and wrapped an arm around Carter's shoulders.

"Carter, you've got the most _important_ job," Hogan began.

"Really?!" He asked, excited.

Hogan could not help but chuckle.

"Come on. I got a few questions I wanna ask you."

Both Hogan and Carter walked off into the barracks while Walters watched them from a distance. He wondered what Hogan and his men had been discussing, but was pretty sure that he knew the answer already. It did not matter. No matter what they were planning on doing, Walters would be one step ahead of them. None of them would ever see him coming and before they could realize what was happening, Hogan would be dead and none of them would be able to stop it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

Hogan sat in his chair facing Carter, who was sitting on Hogan's bunk. The American officer was determined to know more on what the young man knew regarding Walters and would try to be as easy about it as possible.

"What do you want me to do, Colonel?" Carter asked.

"I want you to tell me more on what you know about Walters. What happened after he killed Captain Fischer?" Hogan asked.

Carter rubbed the back of his neck.

"Gee, Colonel. I don't really know. I remember Walters telling everyone that it was a German spy that snuck into our base and killed Captain Fischer. Because of his threat, there was no way _I_ was gonna crack."

Hogan nodded.

"Anything else? Did he harm you in any other way? I need a good idea of what we're going up against here."

Carter let out a huge sigh.

"He's hit a few guys here and there. Kicked them, manipulate them, thrown a few fists once and awhile...once locked a friend of mine in a bathroom. Wouldn't let him out for hours," he said.

"Why'd he lock your friend in a bathroom for hours?" Hogan asked, confused.

"Said that he wasn't treating Walters properly. So he ended up getting locked in the bathroom for about four hours without any food, water, or communication with other people."

Hogan shook his head and rubbed his face with his fingers.

"Boy, this guy's sure messed up," he murmured.

"What, Colonel?" Carter asked.

"Nothing...just realizing how bad this guy's disorder is."

"Oh," Carter was silent before speaking again. "Colonel..."

"Yes, Carter?"

"Are you sure there isn't anything to help Walters get better?"

Hogan sighed and looked at Carter with sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Carter, but I'm afraid nothing can help Walters now."

"It's a real shame, Colonel. He could actually be a decent person, if he wasn't like this."

"I know. Which is why I don't want him turned over to the Gestapo. But just because his brain is functioning a different way, doesn't give him the right to go around and abuse people and murder someone."

Carter nodded, when the two of them heard a knock at the door.

Hogan turned his head to the door.

"Come in," the colonel said.

The door opened, and Kinch walked in carrying a slip of paper. He made his way over to his commanding officer.

"Message from London, Colonel. Said that they'll have the information you want on Walters in about a couple days or sooner," Kinch reported.

"Good. Thanks, Kinch," Hogan said.

"Did you tell them Walters is a sociopath, Kinch?" Carter asked.

"No, not yet. I wanted to ask the Colonel first to see what he thought." Kinch answered.

"I'd rather we didn't. If we do, London will want us to send him back to England, and that's something too risky to accomplish for all of us," Hogan said.

"Got it, Colonel," Kinch said.

It was at that moment that there was another knock on the door. The three of them looked over and saw Newkirk and LeBeau enter.

"Mind if we stop in, Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked.

"No, go ahead," Hogan said, gesturing for them to come in.

Newkirk and LeBeau entered into Hogan's room and closed the door.

"What's going on out there, guys?" Hogan asked.

"Nothing really, Colonel. Walters just keeps wandering around the perimeter of camp like he's looking for something," LeBeau said.

"Kinda fishy might I add, Gov'nor." Newkirk commented.

"It does sound a little peculiar," Hogan said, rubbing his chin. "I wonder what he's thinking."

"Colonel, if he's the one who killed Corporal Mueller, and I'm pretty sure he is, who do you think he might target next?" Kinch asked.

"I couldn't tell ya, Kinch. We don't even know _why_ he killed Corporal Mueller, let alone _if_ ," Hogan said.

Carter shifted uncomfortably on Hogan's bunk. It did not go unnoticed by Newkirk.

"You alright there, Andrew?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," Carter said softly. He then shook his head. "No, I'm _not_ alright."

"What is it, Carter?" Kinch asked, worried.

"I don't know what it is, but I can't shake this feeling that something bad's gonna happen. I don't know what, but I don't like it." The young sergeant answered.

"You're just a little apprehensive over this whole situation is all, Andrew. Nothing more than that," Newkirk said.

"Newkirk, it's not that. I don't know what it is, but it's really starting to worry me," Carter said softly.

"Carter, everything's gonna be alright. You'll see," Hogan reassured.

"I don't know, Colonel. I feel like things are gonna get _worse_ before they get better."

"Anything I can do to help with that feeling?"

"I don't know, Colonel. I really don't."

"Don't worry, mate. Walters'll be gone before yah know it," Newkirk said.

"Filthy bosche will _never_ touch you again," LeBeau said, confident.

Carter sighed again.

"I hope you guys are right. I just can't shake this feeling." The young sergeant softly spoke.

* * *

Night came and soon enough, all of the prisoners were in their bunks fast asleep...well...except for one. Carter was staring up at the bottom of Newkirk's bed trying to fall asleep, but it was not succeeding. He kept feeling like something bad would happen if he closed his eyes and went to sleep. He turned over to his right and stared at the bunks across from his and still could not fall asleep.

After repeating the same thing four times, Carter grew tired of the whole charade and got out of bed. He walked over to Hogan's room and quietly opened the door. He found Hogan in the top bunk fast asleep. He had been up for a while waiting for anything to come over the radio. After it became 1AM, Hogan gave up and turned in for the night. Carter had faked being asleep in order to not try and worry him.

The young sergeant was hesitant on not letting Hogan get the sleep he deserved. He did not want to wake his commander up. He did so much all the time and earned all the rest he could get, but Carter was not getting any sleep unless he was able to sleep in Hogan's room for tonight. His fear of something bad happening was worse at night than the day time, but he would keep that information to himself.

Finally after just standing there for a minute, Carter swallowed a knot in his throat and called for his commanding officer.

"Hey, Colonel? Are you awake?"

Hogan moaned and pushed himself up in his bed to look and see who was at his door. He squinted his eyes and saw Carter standing before him.

"Carter," Hogan asked. "What are you doing? It's almost 1:30 in the morning."

"Sorry, Colonel. I didn't mean to bother you, but I can't sleep," Carter said, sheepish.

Hogan seemed to wake up a little more and looked at his technical sergeant with concern.

"Everything alright?" He asked.

"Well, uh...it's just that...could I sleep on the bottom bunk for the night in your room, sir?"

"Sure thing, Carter. Is something bothering you?"

"Just this bad feeling I keep having. I'd feel better sleeping in here for tonight. I promise it's only for one night, Colonel."

Hogan gave a tired smile.

"Alright, just don't snore like LeBeau does," he joked.

"You got it, Boy. I mean sir." Carter answered.

Hogan lay back down on his bed and tried to go back to sleep, while Carter crawled in under the blankets of Hogan's bottom bunk. He got comfy and sighed, then looked up at the bottom of Hogan's top bunk.

"Good night, Colonel," Carter said softly.

"G'night, Carter," Hogan said groggy and soon enough, the Colonel fell asleep.

The sergeant rolled over onto his side and thought to himself for a bit. He felt better being in Hogan's room. The anxiety he had before had lessened, but it was still there. He wondered how long this anxiety of his would last before it passed over. He knew for sure that he would not feel 100% safe until Walters was out of the picture, but how long would that be? Weeks? Months? Years? He could not answer those questions for himself.

Not realizing it, he was growing tired from all his thinking and fell asleep shortly afterwards.

* * *

"Roll call! Everybody up for roll call!" Schultz bellowed. He flicked on the light switches to barracks two and started his usual routine of banging on all the bunks. All the men groaned at his presence.

"Come on, Schultz. Can't we ever sleep in for once?" LeBeau whined.

"The Kommandant says everybody up for roll call and to take no excuses. I bet you boys were up with your monkey business going on," Schultz said.

"You wanna know what it was, Schultz?" Kinch asked, giving a slight grin.

"No, I do not," the big guard said. With that, Schultz made his way out of the barracks, leaving the men to get ready for their day. Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau were sitting up in their beds, when the door to Hogan's room opened, and Carter entered the main area yawning.

"Morning, guys," Carter said, smiling.

"Andrew, did you sleep in there with the Gov'nor all night?" Newkirk asked, suspicious.

"No, just for a little while. Why?"

"What time did you get up last night?" Kinch asked.

"Oh...around one-ish I would say," Carter said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What was wrong with your bed?" LeBeau asked, curious.

Carter looked over his shoulder to see if Walters was listening. The lieutenant seemed to be paying no attention to him and trying to go back to sleep.

"I couldn't sleep. I kept getting that bad anxiety feeling I've been getting lately," Carter softly said.

Kinch finished tying his boots and got to his feet while LeBeau and Newkirk finished tying their shoes.

"Carter, I think everything's fine. Nothing to worry about," Kinch said, smiling.

"I know, but…" Carter paused and looked over his shoulder again. Seeing it looked safe, Carter leaned in closer to Kinch to whisper to him. "What do we do about him?"

"Don't let him bother you. Besides, you heard what the Colonel said; we're always supposed to stay in groups of two or more, but never by ourselves. Walters can't harm you with us hanging around you all the time. How could he?"

"I guess you're right, Kinch. It's just...it's just that...I," Carter stopped, when he heard a door opening. He turned around to see Hogan dressed and putting on his hat. He made his way over to the men, who had finished getting dressed and ready for roll call. Seeing that his men had paused as soon as he made an entrance, Hogan wrapped his arms around himself and looked at the four men in front of him cautiously.

"Something you wanna say, gentlemen?" He asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"No, sir. Carter was just talking to us is all," Kinch said honestly.

Hogan turned his eyes to the young man.

"What about, Carter?"

"Aw gee. Why do I always gotta be put on the spot?" Carter softly asked.

Hogan was about to talk, when the door to the barracks opened. Schultz came in bellowing.

"Roll call! Everybody outside for roll call!"

The American officer sighed, then turned back to look at Carter.

"Anxiety?" Hogan mouthed.

Understanding him, Carter let his shoulders sag and nodded in a guilty fashion.

Hogan gave a friendly look and patted the young man's shoulder gently.

"We can talk later if you wish," Hogan said.

Carter nodded. "Later, sir," he whispered back.

Hogan nodded, and all the men in barracks two walked outside into the early morning spring breeze. Walters was the last one to exit the barracks. He walked around near the end of the line and smirked. He kicked Carter in the shin, who yelped out, grabbed his leg, and rubbed it. He looked up and glared at Walters who only chuckled.

The lieutenant walked around Hogan, went to the opposite end of the line, and stood in his spot. The American colonel's eyes never left Walters until he stopped. Were he not so tamed, he would have run over to Walters and smacked him upside the head for hurting one of his men. It had not been the first time, and Hogan was determined that it would be the last once and for all. He eventually darted his attention away, when he heard the doors to the Kommandantur's close and a booming voice ring out in Stalag 13.

"Schultz, reeepoooooooooooort," Klink commanded.

Schultz saluted his commanding officer who returned the same sharp salute.

" _Herr Kommandant_ , all prisoners present and accounted for," Schultz said, smiling.

"Thank you, Schultz." Klink turned to look at Walters. The lieutenant was glaring coldly at the Kommandant. He thought the man was a complete moron, but he did not look like much of a challenge. He was still interested in knowing why no one has ever escaped from the great and tough Stalag 13. To him, it was basically a summer camp. He could walk right out the front gate of the camp right now if he wanted to and no one would ever realize a single thing. He could not leave, though. Not now. He had a certain someone to finish off and take control over the prisoners first.

Klink turned away from the man's stare and made his attention to Hogan. The colonel was glaring down at Walters again. He would handle the man after roll call. Before he could return his gaze on Klink, Newkirk yelled out to the Kommandant.

"Ehy, Kommandant! Lieutenant Walters there kicked me mate, Andrew, in the shin!"

Walters snapped his attention to Newkirk with piercing eyes. It made the Englishman shake a little.

Hogan stepped in front of Newkirk with an arm over his chest and stared hard at the lieutenant, letting him know that he was not doing anything to one of his men with him around.

"Gentlemen, that's enough! Lieutenant, stop kicking the prisoners, and Hogan, get back into your spot in line," Klink demanded.

"Gladly, Kommandant," Hogan hissed, looking at Walters. The lieutenant had nothing to say other than snap an evil eye at the colonel. He hated the man to his bones.

"I expect _all_ of you to be on your best behavior, when General Burkhalter gets here in a couple of weeks! Anyone who doesn't comply to those orders will serve sixty days in the cooler and two months without recreational privileges! Diiiiiissssssssmisssssssed!" Klink spoke loudly. The old Kommandant turned sharply on his boot and walked back to his office followed by Schultz.

All the prisoners of barracks two split into their separate ways, and Hogan's men surrounded their commanding officer. They were not risking a chance at Walters coming toward him without them there by his side.

"You alright, Carter?" Hogan asked, concerned.

"Oh, I'm alright, Colonel. Just a little sore is all." The young sergeant answered.

"Probably have a bruise, too, from how hard he kicked yah," Kinch said, crossing his arms.

"Speak of the bloody devil himself," Newkirk said, with a sneer.

Hogan looked up and saw Walters making his way over. The American colonel stood his ground, crossed his arms, and glared hard into the lieutenant's eyes. He made sure to stand in front of Carter specifically with Kinch, LeBeau, and Newkirk surrounding both of them.

"You better tell your Englander to keep his trap shut, if he wants to see another morning," Walters threatened.

"What my men do is none of your concern. I think you keep forgetting that _I'm_ the one in charge here. Until that changes, you'll listen and follow _my_ orders," Hogan ordered.

"I can make that change real quickly, _Colonel_."

Carter swallowed a knot in his throat and latched onto his commanding officer's arm tight. Hogan looked over momentarily before returning his eyes to Walters.

"Let go of him, Rat," Walters warned.

"I won't let you hurt Colonel Hogan," Carter said meekly.

Walters started making his way towards Carter, when Hogan stopped him with a frightening voice.

"You lay one hand on him, I'll have you thrown in the cooler so quickly, you won't know what hit you."

All of Hogan's men shook at hearing their commanding officer speak. They had never heard Hogan speak like that before. He sounded almost like Hochstetter in a sense. It even seemed to send Walters the chills. After snapping out of his shock, he snarled at Hogan and stormed off to another part of camp.

Hogan kept watching him, until Walters was out of sight. Once he was, he lessened his expression and turned to his men worried.

"You guys alright?" Hogan asked.

" _Oui, Colonel_...it's just we've never heard you talk like that before...it was kinda spooky," LeBeau said softly.

"I agree, Gov'nor. Yah sounded as bad as Hochstetter does." Newkirk added.

"I mean business when it comes to you guys. Anyone who tries to say or do otherwise is gonna get a hard hand on my end of things," Hogan said, rough.

Carter let go of Hogan's arm and looked at his commanding officer.

"Boy, I was sure worried he was gonna hurt you there for a moment, Colonel." Carter shivered.

Hogan smiled softly and patted Carter's shoulder.

"Don't worry about me, Carter. I'm gonna be alright," he said friendly.

The young man sighed and looked at Hogan and his friends helplessly.

"Then why am I still so scared?" He asked softly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

Walters paced around barracks seven, where no one ever really hung out unless it was bedtime for the prisoners that resided there. He wanted some peace and quiet to mull over his plans for killing Hogan.

"That man has _gotta_ go. He's a threat to my commanding status and has brainwashed all these men in not seeing who the _real_ commanding officer is here." Walters muttered to himself. He continued pacing and grumbling to himself. At one point, he hit the barracks wall with his fist by how much the thought of Hogan angered him. How he wish he could just strangle the man the next time he saw him walk by. He had to keep under control, though. He wanted to see the man suffer. Cry out in pain, begging to die faster. Walters gave a twisted smile just thinking of the moment he'd shoot Hogan and waited for him to slowly die. It would always be a bonus to see his men watch him die, particularly Carter. Once Hogan was gone, he could no longer protect his men from danger, and that's when Walters would swoop in and begin his plan of making the prisoners his slaves.

* * *

Newkirk, LeBeau, Kinch, and Carter were all tossing a football around and talking with one another. Hogan had gone inside the barracks to read a book and relax in his room.

LeBeau had the ball and tossed it towards Newkirk. The little Frenchman's aim was way off and the ball went over Newkirk's head and over to where barracks seven was, which was about a few yards away from where they were.

"Oh, nice going, Louis! Now who's gonna go and get that?" Newkirk moaned, glaring at his friend.

"Sorry, Pierre. It must have slipped out of my hands," LeBeau said, innocent.

"And ya must have left your throwing arm back in the barracks, too." Kinch teased.

LeBeau turned to the sergeant and gave a smug look.

"Haha, very funny," he said, irritated.

"I'll get it, guys," Carter said, smiling and eager. The young sergeant started running off towards barracks seven.

"Hurry up with it, will ya, Andrew? Before the bloody war ends!" Newkirk called out.

Carter eventually reached barracks seven and scanned around for the football. He found it in front of the door. He walked over and picked it up in his arms. He was about to leave and go back to his friends, when he heard someone talking. Carter's ears perked up and grew curious. It sounded like Walters. He did not like eavesdropping, but since Walters was a threat to his friends and Hogan, he let this one incident slide.

Carter hid behind the opposite end of the barracks and leaned over slightly with his ear. He was careful to make sure no one saw him. He began listening to Walters, who was on the opposite side.

"I'm sick and tired of that man acting like he's in charge. He's cocky. Arrogant. A pig. A bloodsucking tick." Walters snarled.

Carter felt his blood boil hearing what Walters was calling his favorite commanding officer and best friend. Hogan was _none_ of those things. He was nice. Kind. Clever. Funny. A whole list of things, but it was _none_ of what Walters was saying. He shoved his anger down and continued listening in fine detail.

"No, he dies. That son of a gun dies and _soon_! I'll enjoy every minute he's crying out in pain and slowly reaching his death. And those bird brained men of his will never see it coming." Walters started cackling to himself.

Carter gasped and ran off from where he was. He had to get to Hogan and _now_! His life was on the line. Once he got back to his friends, he threw the football over to Newkirk, who caught it, and continued running towards barracks two like no tomorrow.

"Andrew! What about the game?" Newkirk called out.

He, Kinch, and LeBeau all turned to each other concerned and started heading off towards their friend.

Carter finally reached barracks two and yanked the door open. He immediately made a run for Hogan's room and did not wait to knock and hear permission to enter. He opened the door and ran in finding Hogan on the lower bunk reading a book and feeling relaxed. He was on his side propping his head up with his arm with his legs crossed. He looked up hearing the door open and shot up on his feet. He hurried to Carter, who was wheezing from being out of breath from running so fast.

"Carter, are you alright?" Hogan asked, worried. He put a gentle hand on Carter's shoulder.

Carter did not answer and continued trying to get his breathing under control.

Kinch, LeBeau, and Newkirk soon entered inside Hogan's room and spotted Carter wheezing and had a fist over his chest.

"Mate, what the bloody hell happened? You left to get the football just fine, and ya come back running like a bleedin' fire was chasing ya," Newkirk exclaimed.

Carter had slowed his breathing, but was still wheezing.

"Colonel...trouble...Walters…" Carter gasped.

Hogan's eyebrows shot up and looked at Carter worried.

"What about Walters?" He asked.

Carter had finally caught his breath and was now fighting back from panicking.

"He...wants to kill you, Colonel. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but I heard him. He wants to watch you die slow and painful." He quivered.

"Filthy bosche," LeBeau said, angry.

"Oh, Colonel, I _knew_ this would happen! I _knew_ it!" Carter cried. He was about to start weeping, when Hogan shook him firmly.

"Carter, listen to me. I'm not gonna die. Walters isn't gonna kill me, I won't allow it to happen," he said, firm.

"But, we don't know what he's planning on doing. Where he's doing it, _when_ he's doing it." Carter quivered.

"Then we'll be prepared at all costs," Kinch said softly.

"Kinch, go down into the tunnels and bring back five pistols. Have 'em fully loaded. All five of us will keep one on us until we can figure out how to get rid of Walters," Hogan ordered.

"Right, Colonel," Kinch said, and hurried to the fake bunk.

Newkirk snarled and crossed his arms.

"I say we kill him and stop worrying about the darn thing!" Newkirk hissed.

" _No one_ hurts _mon Colonel_! I say we-" LeBeau made a slicing motion with his hand across his throat and made a noise while doing it.

"We're _not_ killing him," Hogan barked softly. "I promise we'll punish him, but we will do it being humane, understood?"

Newkirk and LeBeau sighed sadly.

"Yes, Colonel," both said solemnly.

Hogan looked at Carter, who had tears coming down his cheeks.

"Colonel, don't die... _please_ don't die," he whimpered.

Hogan looked at Carter smiling softly.

"I won't die, Carter. I'm gonna be just fine. We're gonna get rid of Walters, and you'll never have to worry about him again," he said kindly.

Carter wiped his eyes and sighed.

"Boy, I'm nothing but a big crybaby, aren't I?"

"Are yah kidding me, Andrew? _I'd_ probably cry, if I were going through the same thing," Newkirk said.

" _Moi aussi_ ," LeBeau said, nodding.

Kinch came back with pistols and handed each one of his friends one. They all put them inside their jackets and hid them there from being found.

"What do we do next, Colonel?" LeBeau asked, worried.

"Sir, this man means business." Newkirk added in, concerned.

"I don't like where this guy's going, Colonel. I have a feeling killing you off isn't the only thing on his agenda," Kinch said.

"I _know_ where this guy's going. I've seen it quite a few times. He wants power and control. He wants to kill me, so you guys don't have anyone to protect you from him any longer. After he succeeds with that, he'll want to make all of you his servants and take control as Senior POW Officer of Stalag 13. And knowing Klink, he'll be too afraid to stop anything. If Burkhalter's enough to scare him, Walters without a doubt will have him shaking in his boots," Hogan said, wrapping his arms around himself.

"We gotta get rid of him, Gov'nor," Newkirk said.

"I think our best bet is to try and convince Klink that Walters needs to be transferred to a medical unit for psychological ailment." Kinch replied.

"I think that, too, Kinch," Hogan said. "It'll take some work, but it's do-able."

"What do we do, Colonel?" Carter asked, ready to help.

"First, we have to plan a scene at the right moment. Klink needs to see that Walters is not in the right mindset and does things out of context. Newkirk, I'm leaving you and LeBeau up to thinking of a scenario in how Klink can see Walters is mentally ill," Hogan ordered.

" _Oui, Colonel_ ," LeBeau said.

"We'll get her done, sir," Newkirk said.

"Kinch, I want you to go down and monitor the radio for London to call us. I want that information on Walters ASAP," Hogan said.

"No problem, Colonel," Kinch said.

"What about me, Colonel?" Carter asked.

Hogan gave a small smile.

"Why don't you help Newkirk and LeBeau think of something?" He suggested friendly.

"Sure thing, Colonel," Carter said, smiling.

Hogan smiled and nodded.

"You're all dismissed," he said.

Kinch made his way to the radio, and LeBeau, Newkirk, and Carter all sat down at the table and began to think of what to have set up for Walters in order to convince Klink that he was mentally ill.

"Alright, mates. How do we go about in doing this?" Newkirk asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Why don't we make Walters angry somehow about something? Klink could see how irrational he gets and would want him to be transferred immediately," LeBeau suggested.

"It's a good start, Louis, but it might be a bit dangerous. We still don't know how bad this guy is." Newkirk answered.

Carter shifted a bit in his seat, then went back to giving Newkirk and LeBeau his attention.

LeBeau noticed Carter looking a tad uncomfortable now.

"What is it, André?"

"Nothing," Carter sighed. "Just can't ever get used to talking about him without worrying, you know?"

"It's completely acceptable, Andrew. Especially after what that Yank did to you...whatever that may be," Newkirk said, with sympathy.

"Yeah...I'm sorry, guys. I'm just not ready to talk about it is all," Carter said, fidgeting with his thumbs.

"That's alright, mate. You just let us know when you're ready. We'll be here."

Carter smiled small at Newkirk. Although they argued quite a bit, Carter was lucky to have him for a best friend. Newkirk was loyal to the very end and knew that very well.

The fake bunk opened, and Kinch climbed out of the tunnels, then closed the entrance. He was holding a slip of paper in his hand.

"The Colonel still in his quarters?" Kinch asked.

"Yeah, why," Newkirk remarked, curious.

"Got information on Walters from London not too long ago." Kinch turned to look at Carter. "Carter, you wanna join?"

"Sure, Kinch," the young man answered.

The two sergeants walked over to Hogan's room, where the radio man knocked gently on Hogan's door.

"Come in," Hogan's voice said friendly.

Kinch opened the door and allowed himself and Carter to enter in. They found Hogan lying in his bed reading a book. The commanding officer sat up and put on his cap. He looked at his men with his full attention.

"What's going on, guys?" Hogan asked.

"Got the information from London you wanted, Colonel," Kinch said, handing Hogan the slip of paper.

The colonel took it gratefully and read through it.

"Hospitalization in 1935 due to an emotional breakdown, tested for psychological drawbacks during high school showing up as negative, has one account of stealing a book from a store back where he lives in Cranston, Rhode Island," Hogan said.

"Besides the two medical factors, nothing sounds too severe, Colonel," Kinch said, crossing his arms.

Hogan turned to look at Carter. The young sergeant looked at his commanding officer and shook his head 'no'. The colonel nodded and looked back at Kinch.

"Kinch, there's some things about Walters you don't know yet. And when Carter here's ready to tell you, then I will let you know what I mean." Hogan answered, wrapping his arms around himself.

Kinch nodded.

"Got it, Colonel. Whenever Carter's ready, I'll be here to listen," he said.

Hogan nodded.

"What do we do about him, Colonel?" Carter asked.

"Did you, Newkirk, and LeBeau think of an idea on how to get Klink convinced yet?" Hogan questioned.

"No, sir. It's been a lot harder than we thought it would be." Carter answered.

"That's what I was afraid of," Hogan said. He sighed and looked back again at his men. "For now, let's just observe him. Watch what he does on an average day. Maybe it'll help us figure out what to set up for him."

"You think it'll work, Colonel?" Kinch asked.

"I don't know. I couldn't tell you at the moment, Kinch." Hogan answered softly.

Carter let out a ragged breath of air.

"It'll be alright, Carter. We'll get rid of Walters before you know it," Kinch said, smiling. He patted the sergeant's shoulder gently.

"I can't seem to get myself to believe that, Kinch," Carter sadly said. "I wanna believe you guys, I really do...but I can't...I don't know why."

"You've been having that feeling for quite a while there, Carter," Hogan said, starting to worry.

"Maybe it's just nothing. I'm just putting myself in a worry for nothing."

"This doesn't seem like nothing, Carter. I know you. You get anxious sometimes, but never have you been afraid and worried about something like this for so long. I wonder if what you're feeling is true."

"What's true?"

"Whether something bad's gonna happen before something good happens." Hogan started pacing his room and made his way back to his men. He looked them in the eye and had concern within his. "What if you're right, Carter? What if it's only gonna get worse before things get better?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

"Oh, Colonel. Please don't say that!" Carter begged.

"It's a thought, Carter. It could be true," Hogan said.

"Oh, why did I have to go and open my mouth? Now I really _am_ scared!"

"The main thing here is to stay calm and not get ourselves into a panic. It won't do the situation any good."

"Do you want me to tell the guys about just observing Walters for a few days?" Kinch asked.

"Yeah, that'll help, Kinch." Hogan answered.

Kinch nodded and left Hogan's room.

"Colonel, please tell me I'm wrong. If something bad happens to you, I'll never forgive myself. _Never_!" Carter spoke, shaky.

"I don't know, Carter. That feeling could very well mean something, but I don't know. I'm sorry. I do promise you, though, that I'm gonna be just fine." Hogan answered friendly.

Carter gulped.

"I sure hope you're right, Colonel...because I definitely am not feeling it right now."

Hogan patted Carter's arm gently, then the two of them walked out of Hogan's quarters and made their way to the table with the rest of the guys.

"Kinch told us the plans, sir," Newkirk said, seeing Hogan.

"Good. Starting as of now, we all keep a watch on Walters. We need to know what makes him motivated in order to pull this off effectively," Hogan said firmly.

"Yes, Colonel," all of them said.

"What do you want us to watch for specifically, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"Everything. I wanna know this guy from the inside out." Hogan answered.

" _Oui, Colonel_."

"If you guys need me, I'm in my office."

Hogan turned around and headed back to his quarters. He gently closed the door behind him leaving his men in the main area.

"I don't know why we don't just kill the filthy bosche and get it all over with already." LeBeau grumbled to himself.

"You heard the Colonel; no one's killing anybody unless it's in self defense," Kinch said.

"He makes this a lot harder than it needs to be."

"Alright, you kill Walters and tell us how it goes," Newkirk said, smart like.

LeBeau gave Newkirk a smug look, then went back to Kinch.

"Guys...what if Walters succeeds with his plan? What do we do without Colonel Hogan?" Carter asked, shaking softly.

"Nothing's gonna happen to Colonel Hogan, Carter," Kinch reassured.

"Could someone just answer that question for once?! What happens if Colonel Hogan dies?!"

Kinch sighed sadly.

"If Colonel Hogan dies, which he won't, we'll go from there."

" _Mon Colonel_ better not die. If he leaves us with Monsieur Bosche, I might ask myself _personally_ to be taken to Gestapo Headquarters." LeBeau responded.

"You'd rather spend time with Hochstetter than put up with Walters, Louis?" Newkirk asked, shocked.

"Hochstetter's not anywhere _near_ as cruel as Walters is," Carter softly said.

Kinch raised his eyebrows. He was in complete shock at what Carter had just said. Someone worse than Hochstetter? That had to take a huge effort to accomplish.

"Whoa," Kinch said. "Walters sure _did_ do something bad to you, if you think Hochstetter's better than he is."

Carter did not answer. He looked back at his thumbs and avoided any eye contact with the others.

"You wanna talk about it, mate?" Newkirk asked softly.

Carter shook his head.

"No, not yet...I'm just not ready is all...and with Colonel Hogan already knowing, I'm nervous enough as it is." The young sergeant answered.

"Fair enough," Newkirk said.

"I just can't help but wonder what it was Walters did to you, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said.

"You don't _wanna_ know, Louis," Carter softly said.

Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau exchanged worried looks with one another, then back at Carter. Whatever Carter had gone through with Walters, it had to have been the biggest nightmare he had ever witnessed.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully besides the guys keeping careful eye on Walters. After dinner went by, Hogan stood and watched the guys sit at the table playing a game of gin. The window next to the sink was open, letting in a nice, gentle evening breeze to cool them from the humidity in the barracks. At the moment, LeBeau was winning.

"Blimey, Louis. How are ya beating me at this with me own special deck?!" Newkirk wondered.

"Looks like your cards are wearing out on you, Newkirk," Kinch said, smiling.

"Impossible. This deck shouldn't be having a problem whatsoever."

Carter lay down a card, then turned his head to Newkirk.

"Your turn, buddy," he said.

Newkirk thought for a little while at what card to lay down. He had to beat LeBeau and keep his title as gin champ. After a while, the Englishman smiled, put down a card, and chuckled to himself.

"Looks like Ol' Newkirk's gonna take the win home again, as always!" He spoke smiling.

LeBeau chuckled to himself and lay down his hand.

"Gin," the little Frenchman said, cunning.

"How?!" Newkirk cried.

Carter and Kinch threw their hands in, then smiled at Newkirk.

"Boy, Newkirk. Looks like you got beat by your own deck of cards!" Carter cried.

"Bloody joking me. I could've sworn that deck was ruddy full proofed!" The Englishman grumbled to himself.

"Maybe some other time, Newkirk," Hogan said, smiling softly.

"And it won't be with _you_ around," a voice snarled from behind Hogan.

The American colonel felt something pressed to the back of his head. He turned around and was surprised to see what was in front of him. It was Walters standing there with a possessed look over him, holding a pistol at his head.

Hogan and all of his men shot to their feet. Unlike Hogan, the rest of them were filled with adrenaline pumping through their veins, fear for their commanding officer... _especially_ Carter. The four of them all tried reaching for their handguns, when the voice of Walters stopped them.

"Try to pull one of your pistols out, I'll shoot this Colonel Hogan leech so fast, you won't know what happened."

The four left their guns where they were and glared with venom in their eyes at Walters.

"Where...where...where did you get that?" Carter stuttered.

Walters snickered sinisterly.

"Let's just say a friend let me borrow it from him," the lieutenant said maliciously.

Hogan glared at Walters coldly.

"So it _was_ you who killed Corporal Mueller," he said icily.

"Well, lookie here. Looks like you aren't as stupid as I thought you were after all," Walters said coolly.

"Why you little-" Newkirk was quickly restrained by Kinch. The Englishman turned to look at him, who gave him a warning look. Newkirk settled down and went back to giving a death glare at Walters.

"Lieutenant...put the gun down," Hogan said calmly.

"No, I don't think I want to," Walters answered.

" _Mon Colonel's_ done _nothing_ to you!" LeBeau snarled.

"That's where you're wrong, Frenchman. This man's done _enough_ to me." Walters growled back.

"Name one thing I've done to you since your arrival here to Stalag 13," Hogan challenged.

"You know _exactly_ what you've done, Colonel," Walters said harshly. It was then he turned to Carter. "I heard you tell him, Sergeant. I was outside the window the night you told him. For that, you must be punished."

"What did he do, Andrew?" Newkirk asked, turning to Carter.

"You have to tell us _now_ , André," LeBeau pleaded.

"You talk, Rat, and I'll kill them along with your Colonel here," Walters warned.

"No, let Colonel Hogan go! He didn't do anything wrong, _I'm_ the one who cracked. Punish _me_ instead!" Carter bargained.

"Carter, stay out of this." Hogan ordered.

"Colonel, I can't let him do that to you! Please, Colonel, let me take the bullet!"

"Let Colonel Hogan go now!" LeBeau demanded.

"I don't know what you did to me mate, Andrew, but it's sick what you're doing to him _now_." Newkirk snarled.

Kinch simply looked disgusted at Walters.

"Let Colonel Hogan go, please, Lieutenant! I swear, he won't tell anybody! Not a single word!" Carter tried persuading Walters. He was hoping that the lieutenant would miraculously give in and let Hogan free.

"I'd kill him whether you squealed on me or not. Either way, he'll die. He's in the way of my men." Walters answered.

"They're _my_ men! Not yours!" Hogan barked.

"Not for much longer, they aren't." Walters spoke subtly.

"You lay one hand on the Gov'nor, and I'll wring your bleedin' neck!" Newkirk hissed.

"And what are you gonna do if I _do_ decide to lay a hand on him, ah?" Walters snapped back. He fixed his gun at Hogan's belly and kept it steady. He had no problem with making a wrong shot. The lieutenant was known in his old bombing squadron for his gifted aiming skills. He never missed a shot. Not one.

Newkirk wanted to say something, but kept his mouth shut. Usually, he would've let whatever it was to come out of his mouth. However, knowing how unstable Walters could be mentally at some points, he decided to overlook it this one time. He did not want to risk putting Hogan in any more danger than he was already in.

"Lieutenant, _please_ , let Colonel Hogan go," Carter said meekly. " _Please_!"

Walters eyed the men in the room, as if considering listening to their desperation. It felt good to hear them beg... _really_ good. He smirked, then shot Hogan twice in the abdomen.

The colonel collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath and clutching his belly.

"Colonel!" His men cried. The four of them all hurried over to Hogan and knelt down besides him.

"Louis, get Wilson! Hurry," Kinch ordered.

"Right away," LeBeau said, and hurried out the door.

Kinch handed Newkirk a towel and the Englishman began to press down on Hogan's wound to try and stop the bleeding. The towel was turning red quickly.

Walters hid the gun back in his jacket and was heard cackling in the background.

"Look at your new Senior POW Officer, Stalag 13! I'm gonna make pigs out of you weaklings!" Walters laughed.

"Colonel Hogan's gonna survive this! I _know_ he will!" Carter cried, determined. Tears were streaming down his face. He could not lose Hogan. It would kill him.

"Add more pressure, Newkirk," Kinch ordered, a hint of panic in his voice.

"He's bleeding a lot, mate!" Newkirk cried.

Hogan continued gasping for air. He held his belly tighter, as the pain got stronger.

"Come on, Colonel," Carter said, holding Hogan's left hand. "You got it, buddy. Just hold on a little longer. Wilson's coming, Colonel. He'll be here real soon."

"He'll be here too late, sonny." Walters spoke coolly.

As Newkirk was about to comment and give the lieutenant a piece of his mind, the door opened. Klink and Schultz hurried inside with Langenscheidt and two privates.

"What's going on here?!" Klink bellowed.

Schultz gasped at the sight he saw.

"Colonel Hogan!" He cried.

Hogan gasped for air, then his eyes rolled back, as he slipped into unconsciousness.

"No, Colonel, hold on! Don't leave us, Colonel, just hold on a little longer, please, Colonel!" Carter croaked.

"Kinch, he's not breathing," Newkirk said shakily.

Klink turned to see Hogan on the ground.

"Hogan!" He gasped.

"I'll tell you what's going on here. One of your men went trigger happy and shot Colonel Hogan right through the window." Walters hissed.

Newkirk and Kinch started arguing with Walters's statement.

"He's a bloody liar, Kommandant!" Newkirk gnashed.

" _He's_ the one who shot Colonel Hogan!"

"Silence!" Klink ordered loudly.

Wilson and LeBeau rushed into the barracks. LeBeau sat the gurney down on the ground, as Wilson got besides Hogan's side and looked at Kinch.

"He's not breathing, Wilson," Newkirk reported, frantic.

Wilson took his stethoscope and listen to Hogan's heart beat. It was there, but it was weak. The camp medic started doing chest compressions.

"Come on, Colonel. Don't quit on us now," Wilson muttered.

With no one looking, Walters gave a smug smile and switched his gun with the one guard, a private, closest to him. If he got Klink to believe what he said was true, all the guards would be searched and the private would be caught with the gun that was fired and shot Hogan. He thought his plan was genius.

"You gotta believe us, Kommandant! That bloody bastard shot the Gov'nor! We _all_ saw him do it," Newkirk stated.

"Corporal Langenscheidt, have you and the men search Lieutenant Walters for a handgun," Klink ordered.

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_ ," Langenscheidt said. He glared at the lieutenant. He was sure Walters shot Hogan. He was not fond of the lieutenant and was outraged knowing Walters was more than likely the one who did it. He liked Hogan and his friends and would do everything he possibly could to protect any of them. "Privates, search him!"

The privates nodded and searched Walters, who was smiling the whole time.

"Come on, Colonel, breathe." Carter begged.

Wilson continued doing chest compressions and CPR, until Hogan's chest started to lightly fall and rise. It was barely noticeable. Wilson took his stethoscope and listened again to Hogan's vitals.

"He's breathing, but barely. I have to get him to the infirmary immediately. He needs an operation, or he'll die," Wilson said.

Kinch and Wilson both helped Hogan get onto the gurney.

After a very thorough search, the privates shook their heads and turned to Langenscheidt, Schultz, and Klink.

"I'm sorry, _Herr Kommandant_ ," Private Webber said. "We can't find any handgun."

"He has it, Kommandant! I _saw_ it!" LeBeau wailed.

"He shot the Gov'nor with his own bloody hands!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"Silence! If my guards say they did not find any gun on Lieutenant Walters, then I _must_ believe their findings. Private Webber. Private Schneider. Take Colonel Hogan to the infirmary for immediate medical attention." The kommandant ordered.

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_ ," Schneider said softly.

Both privates made their way over towards Hogan, picked up the gurney carefully, and hurried off towards the infirmary.

After they were gone, Klink gulped at the realization of what had to happen next. "Considering the current condition of Colonel Hogan, until he either recovers or...succumbs to his injuries, I officially make you, Lieutenant Walters, temporary Senior POW Officer."

"NO!" Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter cried.

"Kommandant, I promise you I will not let you down," Walters said, lying through his teeth.

"He's lying, Kommandant! He'll destroy this entire camp!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"I want him arrested!" LeBeau shouted.

"He is the next highest ranking officer in this camp, gentlemen," Klink said. He then sighed and looked at Hogan's men softly. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but it must be done."

The four men started yelling and bantering, demanding that Walters be locked up, arrested, shot, or taken to Gestapo Headquarters and interrogated by Hochstetter and his fellow demon squad.

"Quiet!" Klink hollered over them. "Next one that talks out of line gets sixty days in the cooler, do you understand?!"

They let out a heavy, uneasy breath, their eyes blazing with fire. They resembled four bulls about ready to charge at the matador.

"Yes, Kom-man-dant," they said, sharp.

The German colonel turned his attention to his sergeant of the guard.

"Schultz, you and Corporal Langenscheidt get into my office and wait for me to call for an investigation and start interrogation of all the guards! I want to know who shot Colonel Hogan, and I want to know _now_ ," Klink demanded.

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_! It shall be done!" Schultz replied.

Both he and Langenscheidt hurried out of the barracks.

Klink held up his fist, moaned, and stormed off.

"Alright, ya bloody bastard. Where'd you stash that gun?" Newkirk hissed, crossing his arms.

Walters pulled the Luftwaffe private's gun out from his jacket pocket with a crooked smile.

"Secret compartment in my jacket. How else do you think I smuggled in a firearm into Gestapo Headquarters? Had it not been for that short little devil monkey, Hochstetter, I'd still _have_ my handgun. Besides, once they find the gun I swapped with Private Schneider's, Klink will instantly forget all about little old me."

"You twisted bastard, if Colonel Hogan dies, I'm putting a bullet into your head!" Newkirk growled.

"I'm currently Senior POW Officer. If you shot me, it would only lead suspicion to you and your friends here. Now, where would Klink expect a prisoner to get his grasp on a gun, huh," Walters said, smug.

Newkirk grinded his jaw and fought back from losing his temper. He was just about ready to pound the living hell out of Walters: beat him, strangle him, scalp him, every amount of physical trauma he was capable of causing. Had it not been for Kinch standing by and watching them, he would have gone homicidal already. After another glare at the lieutenant, he diverted his eyes to the camp medic.

Wilson rose to his feet and started hurrying to the infirmary.

"Joe," Kinch said.

Wilson turned around briefly.

"Is Colonel Hogan gonna be alright?"

The camp medic sighed.

"I don't know, Kinch. I _really_ don't know."

He and Hogan's men all hurried to the infirmary. Once they got there, the waiting game would begin.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:**

Wilson was in the back of the infirmary with Hogan behind several curtains, as he performed the operation. Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau sat up front on cots or paced back and forth across the area. waiting for news on how Hogan was doing and how the operation had gone. For the moment, Newkirk and Kinch were pacing while LeBeau and Carter sat on the cot up front lost in their thoughts and minds.

"Blimey," Newkirk moaned. "How long has it been since that bloody operation started?"

Kinch looked down at his watch and sighed. "About four hours, now."

"When are we gonna hear something?! I don't think I can take all this waiting much longer!" LeBeau cried, leaping to his feet.

"I'm with Louis. We haven't heard anything in hours, Kinch. What if something's wrong?" Newkirk asked, worried.

"Colonel Hogan is a _fighter_! He'll make it through this," Kinch said, hopeful that his optimism would pull through for him.

Carter had been the most quiet. He sat on the cot wiping tears away and sniffling. He felt the worst of all. If Hogan died, he would never forgive himself. He would resign his spot as technical sergeant/explosives expert of the operation and demand to be sent back to London immediately. Losing Hogan, the best commanding officer he ever had, his best friend, basically a father to him, would completely shatter his reality. He was not so sure if he would be able to get through it. He had a feeling he would just shut down entirely.

Kinch walked over to Carter, sat down besides him, and started rubbing his shoulder to comfort the young man.

"Don't cry, Carter. Colonel Hogan's gonna be alright," Kinch said softly.

"Kinch...I don't know what I'm gonna do if we lose him...I don't think I'll be able to live without him," the young man admitted.

"The Gov'nor would want you to go on, Andrew. He'd feel horrible if you stopped living because of him," Newkirk encouraged.

Carter did not seem to hear him. He leaned his head against Kinch's shoulder and continued softly crying.

"Don't worry, André. Nothing will happen to _mon Colonel_. He will live, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau told Carter.

Wilson came out from the back in a lab coat slightly covered in blood, a removed surgical mask around his neck, and tired eyes. He looked older than he had before the surgery. He rubbed the back of his neck, sighed, and turned to Hogan's men with weary eyes.

"How is he, Joe?" Kinch asked, still rubbing Carter's shoulder.

Wilson let out a huge breath and shook his head.

"Not good, Kinch," the medic softly said. "The bullets severely damaged his stomach and small intestines. There was the blood on the outside and the internal bleeding in his stomach and abdominal muscles on the inside. He required about 12 pints of blood and still requires blood transfusions plus a regular IV. He lost a _lot_ of blood, which in his condition, is not satisfying signs. His skin is clammy, completely drained of color, and is currently in a coma. It'll help heal his body from its injuries, but I don't know how long it'll remain a non life threatening condition."

"When will he wake up from his coma, Joe?" Newkirk pressed.

Wilson did not answer for a long while. He gave all of them a sorrowful look.

"I'm afraid I don't know _if_ he'll wake up."

"What do you mean 'you don't know if'?!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, LeBeau, but Colonel Hogan's condition is critical. These next 72 hours will be the most trying of times. As of now, his chances do not look well. I'm worried that a blood clot will form from the bullet wounds and travel to his heart. If that's the case, he will suffer cardiac arrest and...it _will_ be fatal."

Carter shook his head as the waterworks began, and he ran off to Hogan's bedside.

"Andrew..." Newkirk said, with sympathy.

Kinch put a hand on Newkirk's shoulder.

"Let him go, Peter," Kinch said. "He needs to be alone right now."

Newkirk let out a heavy sigh and nodded. As much as he wanted to be there for Carter, he knew that his best friend needed to be with Hogan by himself for a bit before the rest of them went to go see him.

Carter hurried to Hogan's bed and sat down by his legs on his left. The young sergeant swallowed a knot in his throat and let the tears just fall.

Hogan was as pale as his bed sheets, his skin was clammy, and was hooked to many tubes. One IV in his right hand, which rested on his now swollen belly, another IV in the same arm for the blood transfusion, a tube leading to his belly to clean it of infection, and oxygen assistance in his nose.

Carter took hold of Hogan's left hand and squeezed it gently.

"Hi, Colonel...it's me, Carter, sir...I'm not gonna leave your side for one minute, buddy. No siree, I'm staying right here until you open your eyes and come back to us...you _gotta_ come back, Colonel...Walters is gonna turn this place into a nightmare, otherwise...he'll completely ruin the operation, sir, and I _refuse_ to let him wreck everything you made here. Please come back...I'm not gonna be able to go on anymore if you die. I can't lose you, Colonel...I lost Captain Fischer, I can't lose you, too...please come back, sir... _please_ come back to me, Colonel."

Carter bowed his head and started silently weeping. He suddenly felt a soft hand touch his shoulder. Carter turned around and saw his friends there looking at him with the same fear in their eyes. Newkirk's hand was the one on his shoulder.

The young sergeant shuddered and continued to softly cry.

"He's gonna be alright, Andrew...no matter what happens, the Gov'nor's gonna be just fine. I promise." Newkirk softly spoke.

" _Mon Colonel_ will _always_ be with us, _mon ami_." LeBeau choked back from crying himself. He was just as scared as Carter was.

"We have to be brave for him now, Carter. He needs us to be strong for him and protect him from Walters," Kinch said softly.

"That does it, the man bloody dies!" Newkirk snapped.

" _Oui_! I shall help!" LeBeau added, with a snarl.

"We're not killing Walters no matter how much I wanna kill him _myself_ right now." Kinch answered, fighting a growl himself. He would not have him and his friends murder Walters, but he sure as hell would make the man suffer dearly for what he had done. _No one_ harmed Hogan and got away with it... _no one_. Walters would pay for traumatizing Carter and now for trying to kill their commanding officer and take over the prison camp.

"Carter...you gotta tell us what happened with Walters, now. Colonel Hogan's life depends on it," Kinch said softly.

"No! That's just how we got stuck in this mess in the _first_ place!" Carter whimpered.

"We have our guns this time, _mon ami_. He won't harm us, I swear!" LeBeau promised.

"No!" Carter said, angry.

Kinch walked over to the only window in the infirmary, checked it, then proceeded with the door that lead into the infirmary. He walked back over to his friends and nodded.

"Both door and window are closed. The window's locked, and Wilson's watching the door for any unwanted visitors. We're all safe, Carter. You can speak as free as you wish." Kinch reassured his friend.

Carter sniffled and turned to Hogan. He again gently squeezed his hand.

"He'll be alright, I promise. If Walters walks in and tries anything, I'll shoot him without hesitation," Kinch said.

The young sergeant let out a shaky breath, swallowed a lump in his neck, and sighed.

"Alright...I'll tell you what he did," Carter said, giving in.

For the next hour, Carter sat there by Hogan's side and shared everything he had told the colonel with his closest friends. Several times, Kinch, LeBeau, and Newkirk dropped their jaws, gasped, or just stared at him in horror at what they were told by him.

"He _did_ that to you, mate?!" Newkirk gasped.

Carter softly nodded.

"The filthy bosche!" LeBeau snarled.

"I'll kill him if I ever see him again!"

"Major Hochstetter is too _good_ for him!"

"I say we hand him over to the Gestapo High Command."

"I like it!"

"Hold it, fellas," Kinch said loudly, but soft enough he felt it would not cause Hogan any medical distress. "I think I'm getting something."

"We're gonna have Walters put in front of a firing squad?!" LeBeau asked, excited.

"No, but he'll be wishing it was that." Kinch answered.

"What do you have in mind, mate?" Newkirk asked, smiling.

"Not a lot, yet, but I'll let you know as soon as I get the details worked out." Kinch replied.

"Will Walters suffer, Kinch?" LeBeau asked.

"I guarantee that Walters will get what's coming to him. I'm _determined_ to do so," Kinch said.

LeBeau and Newkirk turned to look at each other and exchanged devilish smiles on their faces.

Wilson came through the curtains and sighed sadly.

"I'm afraid visiting hours are over. The Colonel needs as much rest as possible," Wilson softly said.

"No, I'm not leaving him." Carter whimpered, stubbornly looking at Hogan again.

"Don't worry, mate. He's gonna be here in the morning. You can come back and see him then." Newkirk spoke, with a soft smile.

"But what about Walters?!"

"I had Klink put two guards outside the infirmary. Only you four, I, and Klink are permitted to enter unless given strict directions to do so. I also had it made that Walters is forbidden to come within 50 feet of here. He is to be arrested and put in the cooler, if he does not comply with orders," Wilson said, smiling.

"Joe, you're beautiful," Newkirk remarked, beaming.

Carter gently ran his hand down Hogan's arm and clenched his eyes.

"I can't leave him...he needs me." He quivered.

"I promise, Carter, the moment something changes, I will be sure to notify you four immediately. I will make sure Klink sees it that way." Wilson promised.

Carter sighed and nodded.

"Good night, Colonel...get better really soon...we'll miss you." The sergeant about broke down on the last part.

Newkirk wrapped an arm around his best friend and the four of Hogan's men said their 'goodbyes' and left to return to the barracks.

* * *

Morning arrived and so did roll call. Hogan's spot remained open. Walters stood on the opposite side tall and proud of his new position as Senior POW. Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau did nothing but give the man death glares. They wanted Walters to drop dead where he stood. It would make their situation a whole lot easier. Death was too good of a punishment to give a man like Walters, though, in the minds of Hogan's men. Up until this point, Carter had felt sorry for the man that he was living with a mental disorder. Ever since he had injured Hogan and been told that he had a high chance of not pulling through, all sympathy for the man had vanished. He wanted Walters to suffer severely for what he had done to his commanding officer. He hoped in the end that Walters went through as much pain as he had caused him to go through.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you are all aware of Colonel Hogan's current medical condition. Until further notice, Lieutenant Walters is temporary Senior POW Officer. He will listen to your complaints, report them to me, and obtain Colonel Hogan's duties to perform. If one of you decide to not comply with Lieutenant Walters's, that person will find themselves in a very difficult situation regarding me. Any questions or arguments?" Klink asked.

"Just one, Kommandant," Newkirk said, respectfully.

"Yes, Corporal Newkirk, what is it?"

Newkirk and LeBeau smiled at Klink, then turned their heads and glared at Walters at the opposite end.

"KILL HIM!" LeBeau hollered.

All the men of barracks two started shouting and tried to kick and hit their new assigned Senior POW Officer.

Klink started whistling for guards to break it up.

"Guards! Guards!" Klink bellowed.

Schultz, Langenscheidt, Webber, Schneider, and about four other guards came over and broke it up. Schultz was holding onto both Newkirk and LeBeau with each hand, while Langenscheidt held back Kinch and Carter from approaching.

"That bloody bastard _deserves_ to die after what he did to the Gov'nor!" Newkirk barked.

"I want General Burkhalter! _He'd_ get rid of Monsieur Bosche!" LeBeau yelled.

All the men started yelling again in agreement.

"Quiet!" Klink hollered over all the men. Once they had all settled down, he continued. "Now, I know all of you are upset about Colonel Hogan's current condition, but starting a riot will _not_ help the issue in either way. Now, I want all of you to stop this behavior at once, or I will confine all of you to the barracks! Do you understand?!"

"Yes, Kommandant," all the men besides Walters grumbled.

"Good!" Klink then heard the sound of a car pull into camp and pull up alongside the Kommandantur. A man in a dark uniform with a red armband exited out of the vehicle with two tall, slim men with him. Major Hochstetter had arrived to camp. Seeing he had company, Klink turned around immediately, his face trembling with anxiety. "Diiiiiiissssssssmiiiiiiiiiiiiissed!"

The Kommandant spun on his boot and approached Hochstetter with Schultz following behind him.

The guards left to return to their posts and the rest of the prisoners went off in their own directions. LeBeau, Carter, and Newkirk surrounded Kinch, who was thinking and staring at where Klink and Hochstetter were standing.

"What are you thinking, Kinch?" Carter asked. "And why do you think Hochstetter's here?"

"Maybe Hochstetter can help us out with getting rid of Walters," the leading sergeant said, thinking of an idea.

"What the bloody hell will _Hochstetter_ do about it? He doesn't care about us." Newkirk snarled.

"No, but he _hates_ anyone that tries to hurt the Colonel unless it's him." Kinch explained.

"And when he finds out Walters hurt _mon Colonel_ , he'll want him gotten rid of _immediately_ ," LeBeau said, as it dawned on him. The little Frenchman gave a devious smile.

"Exactly," Kinch said, returning the same smile.

"Kinch, you're beautiful, mate!" Newkirk replied, also giving a sinister smile.

"Looks like the short little monkey is useful for something after all," LeBeau said, surprised.

"So wait a minute. I'm confused. Is Hochstetter gonna help us or not?" Carter asked, completely missing the point as always.

Newkirk rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Mate, one of these days you're gonna learn," he said gently.

Carter raised an eyebrow puzzled and turned to look at Kinch.

Kinch smirked.

"Hochstetter's gonna help us, Carter." The radio man answered.

"Oh," Carter said. "Okay."

"Gentlemen, care for some coffee?"

"I'll go for a cup, mate," Newkirk said.

The four of them were headed for the barracks, when Carter stopped and frowned. He turned his head and looked off in the direction the infirmary was in.

LeBeau, Kinch, and Newkirk turned and looked at him concerned.

"What's wrong, Andrew?" Newkirk asked.

"Nothing," Carter said sadly.

Kinch gave a small smile.

"You can go see him after we listen in on Hochstetter," the radio man promised.

"I'll go with him, Kinch," Newkirk said. "You heard what the Gov'nor said; until we get rid of Walters, we go in groups of at least two."

" _Oui_. I don't trust one of us to be on our own for a _second_ ," LeBeau said.

"As do I. Come on, guys," Kinch said.

The four of them walked into the barracks and entered Hogan's room. Carter closed the door behind him, and they all gathered around the coffee pot set on Hogan's desk to listen in on Klink and Hochstetter.

* * *

"Major Hochstetter...what are you doing here?" Klink gasped. Had someone called the Gestapo major to investigate Hogan's shooting, or was he just here on another riot claiming the American colonel had committed some act of sabotage against the Third Reich?

Hochstetter's two men, both captains, stood guard at the door to make sure no one entered without permission.

"Klink, I received word last night that one of your guards shot a prisoner of yours and wished to congratulate them on the matter," Hochstetter said, his face beaming a bit.

"You received word? How?"

"The Gestapo has its ways, Klink."

The Kommandant shivered and answered, when he finally found his voice again. He was not even going to _ask_ how Hochstetter had found out about one of his prisoners being shot. He did not _want_ to know how he found out.

"Major Hochstetter, I gave no consent to any of my guards to shoot one of my prisoners, and I want to know who did it _immediately_ ," he said, with determination.

"Why are you upset with one of your guards shooting one of the prisoners? Are you defending the enemy, Klink?"

"Definitely not! I am a loyal German officer to the Third Reich and always will be."

"Which worries me greatly, Klink. Now, who was the prisoner that was shot?"

It was then Klink swallowed hard and started to freeze up. If he told Hochstetter that it was Hogan who was shot and the condition he was currently in, whoever was the assassin would have hell to pay once the major found out. Hogan was _Hochstetter's_ property in the major's mind and no one else's. Finding out that someone had gotten away with harming and possibly succeeding in killing him was something that Klink did not want to witness. He had to tell Hochstetter carefully and at the right time...but what on earth was he going to say?

"Ah...the prisoner, Major," Klink said. He walked around his desk and poured a glass of Schnapps for Hochstetter. He handed the glass to the major, who gratefully took it, and continued speaking. "Yes, Major, the prisoner who was shot was a prisoner who lives here in Stalag 13."

"I know that, Klink. Who _else_ would it be?!"

Klink gulped again.

"Right. Quite right, Major. Now, as for who the prisoner is, the prisoner is…" Klink stopped again. He hurried to his cabinet, poured himself a glass, and quickly drained it down. He quickly poured another glass and took it with him this time. He slowly turned to face Hochstetter, who was impatiently waiting on who the prisoner was. Klink decided to look at the guards while speaking with the Gestapo officer to make things easier, only seeing the expressions on his men did not ease him at all. In fact, it made him ten times more nervous.

The guards were not smiling and were not moving. They seemed possessed and not connected with reality. It was as if they were immortal.

Klink continued with a shaky voice. "The prisoner who was shot, Major...was...Colonel Hogan." The last part was said almost unhearable and through gritted teeth.

"I do not understand mumbling, Klink!" Hochstetter hissed.

Klink shuddered again.

"Wouldn't you rather have more Schnapps, Major?" The kommandant suggested, hoping to God that he would drop it for a moment.

"Klink!" Hochstetter snarled.

"The prisoner is...the man who was shot is...his name is…" Klink shook in fear, but finally was able to somehow answer Hochstetter in a very soft, meek voice. "...Colonel Hogan."

Hochstetter's eyes jumped from their sockets at whose name Klink had said, then his face turned a frightening shade of red.

"WHO WAS SHOT?!"


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** To all you lovelies who have been leaving reviews (which I encourage you to do so), I'm going back and looking for this, and yes. I am fully aware of Carter and the crying. I promise there will be little to no more of it from here on out...I think there's one more chapter, but I won't say why. You have to keep reading. Please stick with me, and I promise you a good finish to this plot and story. (I think it's good, my beta thought it was good, but I'll let you decide.) Keep reading and hope you enjoy this next chapter. Our good old Gestapo major has one of his many well known breakouts. Hahaha! God, I love Hochstetter. I'm gonna shut up, now. Chapter 15, everybody! :D

* * *

 **Chapter 15:**

"Boy," Carter said softly. "Hochstetter's sure angry."

"You don't mess with the Gov'nor unless you're specifically Hochstetter," Newkirk murmured.

"I wouldn't wanna be Walters right now if _I_ were him." LeBeau spoke, crossing his arms.

"Me neither. Is he sure in for a heap of trouble _now_." Carter replied.

"Sshhhh. Listen," Kinch hushed.

* * *

"Major Hochstetter, allow me to explain-" Klink begged.

" _YOU_ ALLOWED HOGAN TO BE SHOT AND DID NOT LET _ME_ DO THE HONORS?!" Hochstetter bellowed.

"Major, I can assure you that I had no intentions _whatsoever_ to allow Colonel Hogan to be shot. One of my guards did it without my given orders. I also assume said guard is the same man who murdered one of my guards, Corporal Mueller."

"For what reason, Klink?!"

" _That_ …" Klink stopped and continued in a soft, meek voice. "I'm hoping you can find out for me, Major."

"Klink, whoever this guard of yours may be, I would like to inform you personally that he should be fully prepared to handle _me_ and the men under my command! When I figure out who it is that killed Mueller and shot Hogan, I will have them locked up in solitary confinement, have an intense interrogation, and decide whether or not that he should be shot in front of a firing squad for treason and doing _MY_ JOB!"

Klink swallowed a huge knot in his throat. He had never seen Hochstetter so angry before in his life, and it terrified the older man.

"Yes, Major. I understand and give my full cooperation." Klink quivered.

"Good! It will go a lot _easier_ for you that way." Hochstetter snarled.

Klink shuddered. The Kommandant was well aware of Hochstetter's...obsessive behavior regarding Hogan. Hogan was Hochstetter's when it came to Gestapo business and would not allow anyone else to do harm or damage to him unless it was specifically him. Finding out that someone else had harmed the American and murdered a loyal German soldier had certainly struck a nerve inside the short Gestapo officer, and frankly, it scared the hell out of Klink. How he only imagined of what Hochstetter would do to the guilty party once discovered who he was.

"Have you start an interrogation, yet?" The major growled.

"I was about to after morning roll call, _Herr Major_." Klink quivered.

Hochstetter snapped on his heels and walked over to his two men guarding Klink's office.

"Gentlemen! Round up every one of Klink's guards and have them report to me for intensive questioning and a thorough search of all firearms. If you don't find anything, do it again to be sure! I want this man found, and I want him found immediately!"

" _Jawohl, Herr Major_ ," the one man, Captain Heinen, said firmly.

"Sergeant Schultz and Corporal Langenscheidt can be excused from the search. They were with me at the time of Colonel Hogan's shooting," Klink said meekly.

Hochstetter growled, but allowed.

"All except Sergeant Schultz and Corporal Langenscheidt, gentlemen," Hochstetter gritted through his teeth.

"Any particular order, Major?" The other captain, Captain Donnerstag, asked. (1)

"No! Just send me the first one you see!" Hochstetter barked.

" _Jawohl, Herr Major,_ " Heinen said.

"Now get out! Hurry," Hochstetter ordered.

Heinen and Donnerstag hurried out of Klink's office as fast as they could. Hochstetter slammed his leather gloves on Klink's desk furiously. He was outraged at what was happening. When he found the guilty man who shot Hogan and killed Mueller, he would make them pay severely. He would enjoy every minute of torturing him and watching him grovel at his feet.

* * *

Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau sat there in Hogan's room for hours listening to interrogation after interrogation. They were growing tired of hearing the same thing over and over again. Eventually, all four of them brought in something to Hogan's room to occupy themselves until something important or interesting came through the listening device. Newkirk sat at Hogan's desk playing a game of solitaire, Carter and Kinch were reading, and LeBeau was knitting a scarf.

Private Webber had just been interrogated, and it was finally down to the last guard: Private Schneider.

"Kinch, we already know that these guys were not the one who shot _mon Colonel_ , why can't we just turn it off now?" LeBeau asked, tired.

"Let's just keep it on for a little longer. If we hear nothing still in the next five minutes, we'll turn it off," Kinch said.

The little Frenchman sighed and went back to his knitting.

" _Oui_ , Kinch," LeBeau said softly.

* * *

Private Schneider shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as Hochstetter walked back and forth from behind him. Klink sat on his desk watching his guard about to be forced into talking no matter what the reason was. Hochstetter would not allow him to leave the office until all of his questions had been addressed. While doing that, Heinen checked over Schneider's rifle and Donnerstag checked Schneider's pistol.

"Private Schneider," Hochstetter began. "According to your files, you have a pretty clean record, wouldn't you say so?"

Schneider gulped. The Gestapo major made him anxious and worried.

" _Jawohl, Herr Major_. I tend to like staying out of trouble," Schneider said, shaky.

" _Ja_. Even with a clean record, someone is still capable of murder, Private." Hochstetter continued.

"Major, I beg your pardon, but no one has been murdered as of now." Schneider looked at the man hesitantly and with mercy in his eyes.

"No, you're right...but if Colonel Hogan dies, then it _will_ be a murder. Do you get my point, Private Schneider?" Hochstetter hissed.

" _Jawohl, Herr Major_. I understand you crystal clear, Major." Schneider whimpered.

"Good. Now, where were you yesterday evening? Around 7:30 at night."

"I was patrolling the north side of camp, Major. Kommandant Klink has been cautious ever since Corporal Mueller was murdered a few days ago."

"Ah, yes, Corporal Mueller. It is suspected that whoever killed Corporal Mueller was either an outsider or a guard here at Stalag 13. That same man is also assumed of shooting Colonel Hogan, no?"

"You are 100% correct, Major."

"Mm hm," Hochstetter said. "Private, Colonel Hogan was shot at approximately 7:44PM last night. Where were you during that time?"

"I was switching off duties with another guard, Major. Sergeant Fleischer, you spoke with him already."

"Major," Donnerstag said. "Come here."

Hochstetter turned around and approached the young man.

"What is it, Captain?" He asked.

Donnerstag pointed to something inside Schneider's pistol with Heinen confirming his finds.

"Look at this pistol, Major," he said.

Hochstetter took the pistol from Donnerstag and inspected it himself. He was intrigued with the finding. He gave a wicked smile and walked back over to Schneider, who was fighting back from shaking in front of the Gestapo officers in the room. He kept looking at Klink, hoping the Kommandant would give him some type of encouragement. All he got was Klink's weary eyes flickering back from Schneider to Hochstetter and his men.

"Private, what is this?" Hochstetter asked, as if Schneider had never seen a gun before.

"Major, that would be a pistol assigned to me by Kommandant Klink." Schneider answered cautiously.

"Yes, but what is that I'm pointing at, Private?"

Schneider's eyes gaped at what he found the Gestapo major pointing at. It was bits of copper and lead fowling inside the barrel of the pistol. The gun had been fired two times.

"That's not mine," Schneider said, starting to panic. "That's not my gun. The last time I fired that thing was over a year ago!"

"It was found on you, Sergeant. It appears that you have fired this gun twice at something in particular...or _someone_!" Hochstetter hissed.

"I swear to you, Major, I _never_ fired that gun, never!" Schneider pleaded.

Hochstetter glared at the man for a moment longer before snapping his attention to Klink, who was trying as best as possible not to show his fear for one of his guards.

"Klink, how many times was Colonel Hogan shot last night?" The major asked coolly.

Klink swallowed a sudden lump in his throat.

"Two times in his stomach, Major." Klink quivered.

Schneider could no longer hold back his fear. His body started shaking furiously. It shook even more, when he heard Hochstetter chuckle softly to himself and turned around to again look at the private. He stared at him with fire brimmed in his eyes. The poor guard knew he was done for. How could he explain a gun that had been shot twice found on him? Could possibly someone have switched weapons on him to frame him? Highly unlikely, but it would be a chance he would be willing to take.

"Kommandant...Major Hochstetter, I'm being framed. I would never, _ever_ try to kill or harm one of the prisoners unless given strict and direct orders from either Sergeant Schultz, Kommandant Klink, or General Burkhalter, I _promise_ you! And I _certainly_ would _never_ murder another fellow German!" Schneider cried.

"Then why do you have the weapon that was used to shoot Colonel Hogan?" Hochstetter snarled.

"I told you! I'm being framed! Someone must have switched weapons with me! I never shot Colonel Hogan, and I never killed, Corporal Mueller, Major! You must believe me!"

"Donnerstag! Heinen! Take our prisoner to the cooler. I will decide later what we will do with him for punishment. Private Schneider, you are under arrest for treason, attempted murder, and more importantly doing the duty of a Gestapo officer!" Hochstetter growled.

Donnerstag and Heinen rough handled Schneider in their grasps. The private looked back at Klink. His eyes looked like a deer in headlights.

"Kommandant Klink, do something, _anything_ , Kommandant! Please!" Schneider cried.

Klink shook in fear. He did not need to turn to look at Hochstetter to know how the major was glaring at him at the moment. As much as he wanted to help Schneider, poor Klink's fear got the better of him and there was nothing he could say to change the fact that the weapon used to shoot Hogan was found on the guard.

"Take him away, gentlemen." Klink tremored.

"Kommandant! I'm not guilty! I'm not guilty! I'M NOT GUILTY!" Schneider wailed and was taken away to the cooler by Hochstetter's men.

* * *

"That bloody bastard! He swapped guns with Private Schneider!" Newkirk barked.

"Kinch, we must do something and _now_ ," LeBeau exclaimed.

Kinch had his arms crossed and shook his head with an angry expression on his face. Walters had gone too far this time. He had forever mentally traumatized one of his best friends, killed Corporal Mueller in cold blood in order to obtain a weapon, shot his commanding officer now in a coma and fighting for his life, and now had swapped guns with one of the guards in order to frame someone else and get the spotlight off of him. Walters needed to pay for his sins, and he needed to pay for them immediately. This had gone on for long enough, and it was time to end it once and for all.

"That does it. Walters gets it, and he gets it _now_ ," Kinch said, cold.

"What do we do, mate?" Newkirk asked.

"LeBeau, get Baker and tell him to contact London. I want orders, and I want 'em now. Tell them what's happened to the Colonel and what's currently going on," Kinch ordered.

" _Oui, mon ami_!"

"Hey, Kinch," Carter said. "Can I go visit Colonel Hogan now? I'd like to see him."

"I'll go with yah, mate. Wouldn't mind seeing the Gov'nor meself," Newkirk said.

All four of them left Hogan's room and spread off to their assigned tasks. They hoped London would come in and would help assist the men in anyway possible to end Walters's reign of terror.

* * *

Walters leaned against the barracks wall on the outside. He smiled watching Schneider be escorted to the cooler, where he would then serve his punishment under Hochstetter's wrath. He knew Hochstetter from being interrogated under and brought to Stalag 13 by him. He was a man not to be messed around with, and Walters knew who to cross and who not to cross. Since shooting Hogan and finding out that he was in critical condition, he was sure the colonel would die soon enough with time. He would just wait until that moment, would continue being Senior POW, and make all the prisoners under him live in their worst nightmare.

The lieutenant then went back to thinking about Klink. The man was a complete weakling in his eyes. A man no where _near_ to the qualities it took to be an officer, much rather running a POW camp in the middle of Germany. Then another thought started running through his mind. What if _he_ were the one in charge of Stalag 13? What if _he_ was the Kommandant? A malicious grin came to Walters's face, as a plan began to cook in his head. He could have power not only over the prisoners, but he could have power over the entire _camp_. He wondered if this was how Hitler or Mussolini felt like to have such power over their country. It was set. As soon as the right time came into play, he would not only make sure Hogan died, but he would make Klink go with him, too.

* * *

(1) I know there's a last name 'Freitag', meaning 'Friday' in German. I decided there could be a last name that meant 'Thursday', so I picked Donnerstag randomly. Some leave a review if I'm wrong, but there you go. Captain Donnerstag: commanding officer no other than Major Hochstetter.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:**

Carter sat by Hogan's legs, watching his commanding officer lay there. Hogan seemed at complete peace and totally relaxed. His skin was white as a sheet, his eyelids were blackish purple, and his black hair made him look almost immortal.

Newkirk sat on a stool on Hogan's right doing the same thing as Carter was. The Englishman was so shocked seeing the condition his commanding officer was currently in. The Colonel Hogan he knew had been lively, always on the go, social, and loud. He was now silent, motionless, and vegetated. He needed Hogan to wake up and come back to them. They needed his help in getting rid of Walters, but how did you wake up somebody in a coma? He would have to further investigate on that matter. For now, he just sat and socialized as much as possible with Hogan.

"Hi, Colonel...it's just me, here...Carter," the young sergeant said softly. "Boy, are you sure missing out on a lot, sir. Walters framed Private Schneider for shooting you, and Baker's contacting London as we speak about what to do."

"Andrew, don't you think the man has more important things to worry about? Like waking up?" Newkirk asked, annoyed. The last thing he wanted was Hogan to have a heart attack from stress.

"Sorry, Newkirk...just thought he would want to know."

He shook his head then looked back at Hogan.

"Hey, Gov'nor. Just Ol' Newkirk here. You just worry about getting better. We got things under control while you're recovering. You just keep fighting, sir. We need yah to come back to us."

Hogan did not answer in any way. He remained still.

"I'm sorry, Colonel...this is all my fault. Had it not been for me, you'd still be awake and healthy right now." Carter whimpered.

"Now, don't go down that road again, Andrew. Walters _wants_ you to think that. Don't let him win, mate. You can beat him," Newkirk encouraged.

"He was _my_ commanding officer, Newkirk. He's _my_ responsibility."

"When did you become responsible for your commanding officer, Andrew? _You_ are not responsible for what that bloody bastard did. To you, to Captain Fischer, to Corporal Mueller, to the Gov'nor, to Private Schneider, to _anybody_. It ain't your fault, mate."

"But...but Colonel,"

"The Gov'nor's gonna be just fine. He's strong, and you know that. He's gotten through stuff like this before, he can do it again."

Carter sighed sadly.

"I guess you're right, buddy," he said softly.

"Darn right I am," Newkirk remarked.

Carter was about to smile small, when both of them heard harsh gasping. They turned to look at Hogan, and saw him struggling to breathe. His skin was turning a slight bluish gray.

The sergeant shot up from his spot, and Newkirk leaned in and grabbed Hogan's shoulders. The Englishman snapped his head to his best friend.

"Get Wilson! Hurry!" Newkirk cried.

Carter nodded and ran to the back screaming for Wilson. Once gone, Newkirk started gently shaking Hogan.

"Come on, Gov'nor. You gotta breathe, sir. Everything's alright. Don't quit on us now. You gotta breathe, Gov'nor! Breathe!" He begged.

Wilson hurried out to Hogan and Newkirk with Carter behind him. The camp medic sat down where Carter had once sat and got his stethoscope out and listened to Hogan's heart and lungs.

"I need to be alone. I think Colonel Hogan's got a pulmonary embolism," Wilson ordered.

"What's that?! Is he gonna be alright?!" Carter cried.

"I'll tell you once I get him stabilized. I need to be alone now, though!"

Despite wanting to stand there by their commanding officer's side, Newkirk and Carter made their way to the front of the infirmary to leave Wilson alone with his patient.

* * *

Two hours went by, and neither Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, or LeBeau heard anything from Wilson. The curtains had to be pulled together again, separating Hogan's men from where Wilson and the colonel himself were.

Kinch was pacing back and forth, Newkirk was rubbing Carter's back, and LeBeau was tapping his foot, trying not to go crazy from not hearing anything for so long.

"Oh, Colonel," Carter meekly said. "I'm so sorry. Please don't die, Colonel...I don't think I can move on without you here."

"Don't worry, Carter. Colonel Hogan wouldn't want you to cry over him." Kinch soothed.

"Colonel Hogan could die, Kinch! That's something for me to worry over!" The young man shouted.

"What's taking so long?!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"I don't know, but it's driving me bloody bonkers," Newkirk grumbled. "Speaking of not knowing, what did London say about Walters?" Newkirk asked.

Kinch grabbed a piece of paper out of his jacket and handed it to him.

The Englishman grabbed it and unfolded the piece of paper to read what it said.

"We'll get back to ya?!" Newkirk cried.

"Same reaction I had, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said, disgusted. He crossed his arms.

"Are they bleeding kidding me?!"

Kinch sighed.

"I'm sorry, Newkirk. I'm afraid they're serious." The radioman answered.

"Those bloody…" Newkirk stopped himself from going any further. It was not the time to start blowing his top over orders from London. His commanding officer was fighting for his life momentarily, and that was his only concern.

"Kinch, what are we gonna do? We gotta get rid of Walters!" Carter exclaimed.

"I know...we're gonna have to do this with or without London's help. I got an idea, but I don't have all the details planned out yet," Kinch said calmly.

Newkirk was about to say something, when Wilson came out from behind the curtains and approached the four of them silently. His face was grim and the camp medic looked drained of all energy. He sighed heavily then looked at his friends with his tired eyes. Wilson was in a white lab coat with his stethoscope wrapped around his neck and worn hands.

No one said a word for the longest time. After so long, LeBeau could not take the silence anymore.

"Well?!" He cried.

"Is the Colonel alright, Joe?" Kinch asked, worried.

Wilson let out another sad sigh.

"I wish I had better news to tell you than the news I have to tell you now. I have reasons to believe that Colonel Hogan has a blood clot somewhere in his lungs. I'm worried it might travel to his heart and cause a fatal case of cardiac arrest." The medic answered sadly.

"Can you help him, Joe?" Newkirk asked, hopeful.

"I'm currently giving him injections of urokinase. It's a blood clot dissolver, but it could cause severe bleeding as a side effect. I'm giving him a small dose as of now, and depending on how he responds to the medicine, I'll keep it as it is or increase the dosage. I'm afraid the rest is up to him and his body. I've done all I can for him at this point," Wilson said.

"What happens if the medicine doesn't work, _mon ami_?" LeBeau asked.

Wilson was silent for a long while before answering.

"Then I'm afraid that Colonel Hogan will not regain consciousness again. The blood clot will make its way to either his heart or brain. He'll then suffer from cardiac arrest or a fatal stroke."

Carter dropped to the ground on his knees with a look of horror on his face. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.

"Carter, are you okay?" Kinch asked, worried.

The young man's head snapped in the direction of Hogan's bed.

"Colonel! Come back! Don't leave me! Colonel! Wake up, Colonel!" He screeched.

Newkirk rushed to Carter and got him to his feet, then wrapped an arm around him.

"Andrew. Andrew. Andrew, answer me!" Newkirk begged.

"What's wrong with him?!" LeBeau demanded.

Wilson shook his head sadly and let out a heavy breath.

"I think Carter might be suffering from a severe form of psychosis. It's caused by a traumatic event happening in a person's life. Do you know what it was Walters did to Carter that made him so terrified of the man?" He asked.

"Yeah; he was beaten a few times and was forced to watch his head commanding officer be murdered by Walters." Newkirk answered calmly. He had his arm wrapped protectively around Carter, as if he were his little brother.

"I think Colonel Hogan and his current situation has pushed Carter a bit over the edge," the camp medic said.

"Come on, Andrew. Snap out of it! The Gov'nor wouldn't want this, Andrew! Ya gotta snap out of it, mate!" Newkirk pleaded.

Carter blinked a few times and shook his head for a little bit. His body shivered a little, then ran off to Hogan's bedside to be with him.

"André...André, wait!" LeBeau begged.

"Alright. This has gone _far_ enough! I want Walters dead, and I want 'im dead _now_!" Newkirk snarled.

"We're not killing Walters no matter how much we want to. The Colonel would be ashamed if we went behind his back and broke one of his rules. That's not the way we work, Newkirk, and we all know that," Kinch said.

"But Walters isn't _mortal_ , Kinch. _Major Hochstetter_ is more humane than he is!" LeBeau turned his head and was shocked at what he had just said. "Did I just say that?"

"I never thought I'd see the day where Hochstetter would turn out to be better than someone else." Newkirk spoke, crossing his arms. He was just as shocked as LeBeau was at the thought.

"We have to do something, and we have to do it now, _mes amis._ For _mon Colonel_!"

"But how do we convince Klink that Walters is mentally unstable?"

"It's a good question, Newkirk. We have to find a way to provoke an episode from Walters without it causing danger to the rest of the prisoners or Klink himself," Kinch said, crossing his arms.

"What if we got him locked in the cooler for some reason? Trying to escape perhaps?" LeBeau suggested.

"I like where you're going, Louis, but it's too vague still. What we need is a solid, full proofed plan," Newkirk said.

"We need something that Walters will never see coming. Something that he won't grow suspicious of." Kinch continued.

"May I make a suggestion?" Wilson interjected.

"Sure, mate. Go ahead," Newkirk said.

"Whatever you four decide to do, do it with caution and be extremely careful. I'm no psychologist, but I know enough about sociopathy. If it's severe enough, the patient can be tremendously dangerous to confront." Wilson replied.

Newkirk turned to look where Hogan's bed was located and frowned.

"I think we've already learned that the hard way, Joe." The Englishman murmured.

Kinch, LeBeau, and Newkirk walked past the curtains and stopped, when they spotted Carter sitting next to Hogan's bedside on a stool. He held Hogan's hand gently in his.

The colonel's skin was clammy, and his hands were fragile. Carter could feel nothing but skin and bones. He was terrified to grab his hand any tighter for the possibility of breaking one of his weak and brittle bones.

Newkirk, LeBeau, and Kinch walked closer to Hogan's side. The closer they got, the more sick their commanding officer looked. Reaching his bedside, Hogan's body looked like a corpse.

LeBeau sat down besides the colonel on the left, and Newkirk and Kinch stood and looked down at their ailing commanding officer. How they wished there was something they could do to make him wake up and come back to them. The four of them needed Hogan more than ever at the moment. They needed their commanding officer's mind, wisdom, and intellect in order for them to figure out how to get rid of Walters. Without him, they were stuck in a dark empty area and had no idea how to escape from it.

"Hey, Colonel. It's LeBeau, here," the little Frenchman said softly. "We're all here with you, _mon Colonel_. Don't be scared now. You're the toughest man I know alive. You can do this; you've done harder things before."

"Louis's right, Gov'nor. You've beaten the odds against yah before, you can do it again, sir. We have faith in you." Newkirk added.

Hogan did not respond. He remained still and lifeless.

"Don't worry, Colonel. We're gonna get rid of this bastard if it's the last thing we do, sir," Kinch said softly.

"Yah gotta open your eyes now, sir...we need one of your brilliant ideas more than anything right now," Newkirk said.

"Where's _mon Colonel_ when you need him?" LeBeau wondered.

"Please wake up, Colonel...I swear I'll never say another stupid thing again. Honest." Carter tried bargaining with his comatose commanding officer, hoping it would work. Nothing.

Kinch sighed.

"Open your eyes, Colonel. You can do it. I know you can," he softly said.

Hogan did nothing.

"Come on, Gov'nor...do _something_ ," Newkirk urged in a whisper.

Again, the colonel did not respond.

Carter grabbed Hogan's hand a bit tighter and squeezed it gently.

"I know you can do it, Colonel." The young sergeant croaked.

All of Hogan's men sat there in silence and prayed with all their hearts that their colonel would wake up and get better again.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17:**

A few days went by, and Hogan was still unresponsive to treatment. Wilson was beginning to grow worried about Hogan's health and the blood clot in his lungs. He had increased the dosage of urokinase he was giving and now had to wait and see how it handled things. For the moment, nothing was happening, which concerned the camp medic.

Walters wandered around outside in the compound and walked by the infirmary several times as close as he could get. He was still irritated with the fact that he was forbidden to go anywhere near the place. He had no doubt in his mind that Carter and his tag along crew were behind all of this. He'd give his technical sergeant a piece of his mind later. For now, he had to find a way to get past the guards and into the building in order for part one of his plan to succeed. The lieutenant could not help but smirk looking down at his jacket pocket. He patted it gently, pleased with his work. What he had inside his jacket pocket would be the end of Colonel Robert Hogan, and be the beginning of a glorious start to his reign of power at Stalag 13. Once Colonel Hogan was rid of, it would only leave one rat for him to kill, and he was a hundred percent positive that Klink would be no match compared to him.

The lieutenant wondered if the infirmary possibly had a back door that was unguarded. If it were true, his plan would still be easy to carry out. Curious, he made his way around back within given distance and reached the front of another barracks. Walters craned his neck to see what he could make out. He gave a wicked grin seeing that there was, in fact, a back door to the infirmary, and it was unguarded. Walters gave a low, malice chuckle to himself and shook his head.

"You better hope to have that camp medic around you, Colonel Hogan. After today, you won't be a problem to me anymore," Walters said to himself.

The lieutenant turned around back in his original direction and resumed his walk around camp.

* * *

It was mid afternoon to early evening, and most of the prisoners were in the mess hall eating dinner or in their barracks. Walters found it the perfect opportunity to carry out his attack. With caution, he approached the back door of the infirmary and silently opened it a crack to check if the coast was clear. Sure that no one was around, Walters slipped inside and closed the door behind him without a sound.

The lieutenant made his way down the hallway silently and peered around the corner to see if anyone was in the main area of the infirmary. No sign of any unwanted visitors. Walters spotted his victim and gave a sinister look at the man. Knowing Hogan would die slowly would be enough satisfaction for him. He made his way stealthily towards the ailing patient and once finally reaching him, stood over Hogan and looked at him observantly.

The colonel was sickly pale. His eyelids were black, his belly swollen from his injuries and the operation, and was still as a statue.

"Well, well...well," Walters started. "Looks like _I'm_ getting the last laugh on this one, Colonel. And it's too bad you won't get to watch. What a shame. It would be quite the show...for _me_ , that is."

The lieutenant chuckled to himself and pulled out a syringe from his jacket pocket. In it was a clear, light pink liquid.

"Frankly, sir, you have made this far too easy for me. So, from all of us at Stalag 13, goodbye, Colonel Hogan."

Walters took the syringe and injected the contents into Hogan's IV bag. He was finishing up on his job when the doors to the infirmary opened. It was Carter. Anxiety and guilt hadn't left the sergeant with much of an appetite, and he had left the mess prematurely to sit at his commanding officer's bedside.

"Hey, Colonel. I'm back again, and I…" the young sergeant gasped, seeing Walters injecting something into Hogan's IV. "Get away from Colonel Hogan! How did you even get in here anyways?! There are two guards on duty outside!"

Carter ran towards Walters and grabbed his right arm tightly to try and pull him away from hurting his commanding officer anymore than he had already had.

Being the man he was, Walters was able to roughly shake off the young sergeant, sending him to the ground on his back. Carter sat up and shook his head a few times to shake off the cobwebs. He looked up and gasped. Walters was hovering over him with a possessed look in his eyes. The lieutenant gawked at him; it looked like he would strangle him at any minute.

The young sergeant swallowed a lump in his throat and tried to scream for help, but nothing came out of his mouth. So this was how he would die, he thought. At least he did it trying to save Hogan from dying instead. Right as he thought Walters would go in for the kill, the door opened again. Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau entered into the infirmary.

"How is he, Car…" Kinch paused and gaped at what he saw. Newkirk and LeBeau followed suit.

"Get away from him!" Newkirk bellowed.

Kinch hurried toward Carter to make sure he was alright.

Newkirk and LeBeau went in to grab Walters, but the lieutenant was too quick for them, and hurried out the way he came in, almost running over Wilson. The camp medic shot his head towards Walters, then back to the sight in front of him.

"What just happened," Wilson ordered.

Carter shook Kinch off gently and hurried to Hogan. He grabbed the syringe Walters had used and shook looking at it.

"Joe...I think Walters gave Colonel Hogan something," he quivered.

Wilson hurried over and took the syringe from Carter. He opened it, smelled the inside of it, and coughed at the strong smell. Once it wore off, the camp medic became angry.

"Meth," he hissed.

"What, Joe?" Kinch asked.

"Methamphetamine. I _know_ that's what Walters gave the Colonel. It's a drug that can be made with common household items, and has the smell of ammonia if made illegally." Wilson had Carter sniff the syringe. The young sergeant took one slight sniff and nearly collapsed again. He coughed viciously and wiped his nose, trying to rid it of the scent he had just smelled.

"Oh boy. That smells awful!" Carter cried, covering his nose.

Wilson snapped his head back to Hogan and immediately started to listen to his heart beat.

"That syringe was filled up to the brim. I think Walters may have tried to kill the Colonel with an overdose." He continued, listening for anything irregular.

"That bleedin' bastard! Where did he go?!" Newkirk snapped, punching his palm.

"How did he get in?" LeBeau asked.

Kinch let out a breath of frustration and hung his head back.

"I forgot about the back door," the radioman spoke, ashamed of himself.

Newkirk snapped his fingers, while shaking his head.

"Damn it. How did we overlook that one?" The Englishman grumbled.

"LeBeau, get Garlotti and Olsen. Tell them to guard the back door of any unwanted visitors. Starting now, neither the front door _nor_ the back door is left unguarded," Kinch ordered firmly.

" _Oui_ , Kinch," LeBeau said, and hurried off to barracks two.

Wilson rapidly put his stethoscope aside and hurried to find medication and water. He hurried back to Hogan's side and started injecting the syringes into the IV hooked up to the commanding officer.

"What's wrong with him?!" Carter cried.

"His heart's beating rapidly. Dangerously close to going into overdrive and causing heart failure. I've gotta get some medicine and fluids into him to try and stop it." Wilson answered, trying to hide his panic.

"Come on, Gov'nor! Hold on there!" Newkirk pleaded.

Wilson picked up his stethoscope again and checked Hogan's vitals. After about three minutes, he sighed with relief and wrapped the stethoscope around his neck.

"His heart rate is slowing down. He should be fine now."

All three of Hogan's men finally let out a breath, hearing the news.

"Thank you, God." Newkirk sighed.

LeBeau returned and hurried to his friends.

"How is he?" The little Frenchman asked.

"He'll be fine regarding the overdose Walters tried to give him." Wilson answered. The camp medic fell strangely quiet after that.

"What is it, Joe?" Kinch asked, worried.

Wilson gestured towards the front of the infirmary away from his patient. Hogan's men followed, and once reaching the front, gave the medic their full attention.

"What's wrong, _mon ami_?" LeBeau asked, concerned.

Wilson looked at all of them with sympathy in his eyes.

"Colonel Hogan is not responding to the medicine I've been giving him for the past four days...he's not getting better, and he's not getting worse. I'm afraid I have done all I can do for him." He spoke softly.

"Joe, tell me you're joking, mate!" Newkirk pleaded.

Wilson sighed heavily.

"I can not treat him anymore here. There's a hospital in Berlin that has better medicine and treatment options for the Colonel. I strongly recommend having him transferred there to receive better quality care. His outcome is not good as of now, but perhaps by sending him somewhere else with better facilities and equipment, it could be raised."

"You mean...you mean to send _mon Colonel_ away? Where we may never see him again?" LeBeau asked shakily.

Wilson was silent for a long while.

"I'm sorry, Louis...but he's only going to get worse unless treated in a better medical facility where he has a higher chance at surviving. If you all care for Colonel Hogan as much as I know you guys do, you'll allow the transfer to happen. I will not suggest it to Klink, unless all four of you agree."

"No...no! No, I won't let you send him away!" Carter protested. He hurried off to Hogan's side, leaving Kinch, his friends with Wilson.

"He'd have a better chance at getting well, if we send him to Berlin, Kinch," Newkirk said.

" _Oui_ ," LeBeau said. "I hate the thought of losing _mon Colonel_ , but it's what's best for him."

"I agree...and we've gotta get Carter to see that, too." Kinch spoke to his friends.

"What are we gonna do, mate?" Newkirk asked sadly.

Kinch looked off to see Carter sitting on Hogan's right, watching him.

"Let me try talking to him. I might get him to see it our way." He answered. The radioman left his friends and made his way slowly over to Carter. When he reached him, he sat down beside his commanding officer and looked at him briefly.

Hogan's condition had not changed a bit. He looked just as bad as he did the night Walters shot him. It made Kinch wonder if he would ever have another conversation with his commander again. Would any of them ever hear his voice again? See him smile, hear his laughter that was so full of life. He sighed silently and tried to find the words to say to Carter and make him see it their way.

"I'm not letting him leave, Kinch." The young sergeant croaked, his voice shaky.

"Carter, Colonel Hogan's not gonna get any better here. There's nothing more Wilson can do for him."

"He's gonna come back to us, Kinch. I know he will. He's done it before, he's been in worse situations than this."

"Richard has a colleague in Berlin that works with the underground. He can help the Colonel have a chance in surviving through this, Carter. He needs this. Don't you want that?"

"He needs _us_! He'll feel like we abandoned him."

"No, he won't. In fact, I think Colonel Hogan would do the same, if it were one of us instead of him."

Carter shuddered.

"I'm gonna miss him, Kinch...so, so much."

"I know. We're _all_ gonna miss him, Carter."

"Will we ever see him again?"

The radioman fell silent for a moment before answering.

"I don't know, Andrew. I can't answer that. All I know is we all want what's best for the Colonel. We all want him to get the best chance possible of surviving, waking up, and coming back to us again. I'm pretty confident Klink will permit us to travel to Berlin and visit him from time to time...we've gotta say 'goodbye', Carter. He wouldn't wanna spend his life like this."

Carter looked back at Hogan again and let tears stream down his face.

"Colonel...I'm gonna miss you so much." He quivered. He wrapped his arms around Hogan and hugged him tight. He wanted to commint to memory as much of his commanding officer as possible. His hugs, his smell of cologne and shaving cream, his black hair. If Walters had succeeded with his plan, and Hogan died, he wanted to remember him as best as he could.

Kinch reached over and rubbed his friend's arm. There was nothing more he wanted to do at that moment than find a way to bring Hogan back to them, and together find a way to get rid of Walters. For now, and maybe forever, they would have to pull through as a group of four.

LeBeau, Newkirk, and Wilson walked over slowly towards Kinch and Carter.

The radioman looked up at Wilson and nodded.

"We want him transferred, Joe," Kinch softly said.

Wilson nodded.

"I will let Kommandant Klink know immediately. You guys say your goodbyes. I want Colonel Hogan on his way to Berlin later tonight." He looked at all four of Hogan's men carefully. He could see their heartache, their grief, their loss for the best man they've ever known. Their best friend in the whole wide world. It broke the camp medic internally, knowing that he could not do anymore for his friends. Their best bet now was to get Hogan to Berlin and hope that Dr. Richard Klaussner's colleague would be able to help him get well again and come back to them. "I'm sorry, guys...I wish I could do something else for him."

The camp medic sulked out of the infirmary and made his way to Klink's office.

Carter lifted his head from Hogan's chest and looked at him with his damp, red eyes. He closed his eyes and squeezed the colonel's hand tight.

LeBeau had tears streaming down his face, but he fought through them.

"Don't be scared, Colonel. Richard's friend in Berlin will make sure you come back to us again." The little Frenchman quivered. "This isn't goodbye forever...just for a while. I will make you proud, Colonel. We _all_ will." He spoke the last part as determined as possible.

Newkirk had a glum look on his face and had his eyes looking down.

"We're gonna miss ya, Gov'nor. We hope you'll come back someday. You have to. You're the strongest, bravest man I've ever met in me life, sir. If anyone can do it, you can."

"Don't worry, Colonel. I'll look out for them. Walters won't have a chance with us around. Hopefully, he'll be off in a mental institution somewhere, when you come back again," Kinch said. Even though his commanding officer's chances were slim, he did not want to believe that this was goodbye forever.

"You are the best commanding officer I ever had, Colonel...you always will be...you'll always be my best friend," Carter said, just above a whisper.

"Goodbye, Gov'nor," Newkirk said sadly.

"We'll miss you, Colonel," Carter wept.

" _Au revoir, mon Colonel_ ," LeBeau croaked.

Kinch sighed sadly and turned to look at Hogan one last time.

"Goodbye, Colonel."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18:**

The first forty-eight hours after Hogan left for the hospital in Berlin, Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau were all quiet, despondent, and withdrawn from social life. All they did was sit in the barracks and grieved over their loss of their colonel. If they weren't doing that, they were trying to distract themselves with other individual activities. Playing gin was the most popular one. Surprisingly, Walters seemed to leave them be, but the four of them were still very cautious and observant whenever the man came around.

A few days went by after that, and LeBeau and Newkirk were outside playing a game of basketball. For the moment, the little Frenchman was practicing his free throws, while Newkirk stood behind the basket and rebounded for his friend.

"What are we gonna do about Walters, Pierre?" LeBeau asked, focused on making his shot. He threw the basketball and made a 'nothing but net' shot.

Newkirk grabbed the ball and dribbled it a little, while answering his friend.

"I don't know. I'd sure love to kill the man, but apparently that ain't an option." He bounced the ball back to the Frenchman and watched him.

LeBeau shifted position to the right a little and dribbled the ball.

" _Oui_. Filthy bosche should be _ashamed_ of what he did to poor André. How can anyone murder someone in such a cruel way, let alone make someone else _watch_ you murder someone?" He made a shot, but it missed like several of the other ones he had made today.

"Same reason why you would shoot someone dead just for making sure they'd keep their mouth shut." Newkirk passed the ball back to LeBeau again.

The little Frenchman again attempted to make a basket, but missed having the ball hit the rim, spin around a while, then fall back onto the ground.

" _Bon sang_ ," LeBeau muttered. (1)

Newkirk caught the ball and tried spinning it on his fingertips. He was getting the hang of it, when Kinch and Carter made their way over to them.

"How's it going, Newkirk?" The tall sergeant asked.

"Oh, you know...boring."

"Can we do something, Kinch? I'm getting really bored." Carter groaned.

For the past two days, the four of them had done nothing more but do the same thing over and over again: basketball, gin, or work assignments given by Klink.

"We could think of how to get rid of Monsieur Bosche here," LeBeau suggested, with a snarl.

"Kinch, can't we just...you know…" Newkirk took his hand and pretended to slice his neck, while making a noise with his throat.

"Look, I wanna kill the guy just as much as you guys do, but that's not how we work. You all know that." Kinch answered, crossing his arms.

"Would sure make this job a whole lot more simpler if we just killed him." LeBeau murmured.

"Yeah, then have General Burkhalter and Major Hochstetter get involved with how one of us managed to kill another prisoner, expose the operation, and have us all placed in front of a firing squad. Do you really want that, Louis?"

LeBeau sighed and hung his head.

"Hey, Kinch," Carter said. "Speaking of Burkhalter, wasn't he supposed to come visit Stalag 13 by now?"

"I was listening in on a phone call Klink got this morning. Apparently, Burkhalter's meeting in Kiel is running longer than expected. He won't be back for at least another couple weeks."

"Bloody charming," Newkirk grumbled.

"What about Hochstetter?" LeBeau groaned, crossing his arms.

"Klink said yesterday that today he would make his final decision on what to do regarding Private Schneider. From what I've heard, doesn't sound like he's getting off with a warning. Hochstetter's pissed that someone tried to do his job and more so over the loss of a fellow German," Kinch said.

"I think the man needs a new hobby." Newkirk replied.

"Like knitting," LeBeau added.

Carter frowned and looked to Kinch.

"How do you think Colonel Hogan's doing, Kinch?"

"From what I've heard from Dr. Trommler, they're currently trying a new medication on the Colonel. Other than that, I've heard nothing."

"Sure wish he were here right now," Newkirk sadly said.

" _Oui_. _He_ would know what to do about all of this." LeBeau spoke.

"Colonel Hogan _always_ knew what to do. That's just who he was. He was the brains of it all...sure wish I could see him again," Carter said, depressed.

"Once this whole thing with Private Schneider blows over, I'll try and see if Klink won't let us go up to Berlin sometime next week and visit with the Colonel." Kinch answered.

"Aren't we gonna try and save Private Schneider, Kinch?" LeBeau questioned.

"I told Klink a couple of days ago about the incident that went on in the infirmary involving Walters and the methamphetamine. He said he would look into it, but that doesn't mean anything for sure."

"Hopefully our 'fearless' Kommandant will pull through for us for once." Newkirk murmured.

"Hey, Klink may be a huge fraidy cat, but he's been there for us before," Carter said.

LeBeau turned to Newkirk.

"He's not wrong, _mon ami_. Klink's been there to pull a few strings here and there for us. He's not a complete bosche."

Newkirk gave a heavy sigh and nodded.

"You make a point, Louis," he said softly.

* * *

Klink and Hochstetter were walking side by side outside around the Kommandantur discussing the situation with Hogan's shooting, Mueller's murder, and Private Schneider's punishment.

"Major, surely you don't mean that," Klink said, trying to persuade the hard headed Gestapo agent.

"Klink, the man is guilty of trying to attempt murder of a prisoner that should have been _my_ pleasure, murdering one of your guards, and interfering with Gestapo matters. Private Schneider must face the consequences of his actions." Hochstetter answered, firm.

"Maybe a less _lethal_ way of punishment, Major?" Klink hoped he could talk Hochstetter out of his original plans.

"Klink, you are too soft! This is why none of your men respect you! Sometimes you need to lay down the line with these men if they are to listen to your orders!"

Klink nodded furiously.

"Absolutely, Major Hochstetter. I could _not_ agree with you more."

Hochstetter growled at the German colonel, and the two of them continued walking to the cooler.

The two men arrived to Private Schneider's cell, where two of Hochstetter's men were standing guard.

Schneider was sitting on his cot staring at the cold cement floor beneath him.

"Private! On your feet!" The major barked.

Schneider got to his feet quickly and turned to salute Klink first and Hochstetter next. Both replied with the same gesture. The Luftwaffe guard turned to look at his commanding officer. Klink was looking at him with sympathy and tried to ease as much fear he could from the man looking back at him.

"I'm sorry," Klink mouthed.

Schneider tried understanding what Klink was saying, but his attention quickly darted to Hochstetter, when the man spoke again.

"Private Adolph Schneider, you are hereby officially under arrest for getting involved in Gestapo matters, first degree murder of one of your fellow countrymen, and attempted murder. You will serve your punishment by facing a firing squad at Gestapo Headquarters in Hammelburg," he stated clearly.

Schneider shook his head, while his whole body tremored.

"Kommandant, I swear to you I did _not_ shoot Colonel Hogan, and I did _not_ kill Corporal Mueller! I would never do something unless you gave strict instructions to do so, Kommandant!" The private pleaded.

"Your precious Kommandant can not help you any longer, Private. You will be taken to Headquarters immediately." Hochstetter turned his attention to his two men guarding the jail cell. "Austerlitz! Dreher! Escort this man to the car. I will meet you there momentarily. If he tries to escape, shoot him."

" _Jawohl, Herr Major_ ," Dreher said.

Both of the guards opened the cell, handcuffed Schneider, and shoved him out of the cell.

"Let's go, swine." Austerlitz hissed.

The two men grabbed Schneider by the arms tightly and dragged him out of the cooler.

The private looked at Klink, begging for him to do something with his eyes.

"Kommandant! Kommandant, do something! I'm innocent I tell you! I didn't shoot Colonel Hogan! I DIDN'T SHOOT COLONEL HOGAN, KOMMANDANT! HELP ME!" Schneider shrieked.

Klink shuddered and tried as hard as he could to keep down the bile in his throat. He genuinely felt Schneider was innocent, but Hochstetter was someone you did not want to double cross with, unless that person happened to be General Burkhalter. The Gestapo major would do what he pleased, how he pleased, and when he pleased. Hearing Schneider scream and cry out for mercy, however, made Klink want to double over and get sick. He swallowed another knot in his throat and looked at Hochstetter. His eyes were pleading for another suitable punishment.

"Major Hochstetter, there must be another punishment that will fulfill _both_ our needs. A week in Gestapo Headquarters prison? Three weeks locked up here in the cooler? Four weeks as your personal assistant?" Klink begged. He hoped that there was somewhere down inside of the Gestapo major that had a bit of humanity left regarding Schneider.

"Klink, I have made up my mind. The man will go under execution, and I will not comply to anything else." Hochstetter hissed.

Klink closed his eyes and fought back from shuddering.

"Yes, Major," he said, shaky.

"Good. I am off, Klink." Hochstetter replied. The Gestapo officer saluted the Luftwaffe colonel and stormed out of the cooler.

To himself now, Klink shuddered and held himself up by leaning against the stone cold walls of the cooler. It took all of his strength to keep him from sliding to the ground. An innocent man was about to die because of some sick mind framing him. Another man was dead from being stabbed to death by possibly the same man. Then there was Hogan in Berlin, who was currently fighting for his life. His life, too, did not look so well to most of the doctors currently treating him and trying to save him. His one real friend was lying in a hospital somewhere in Berlin dying. He had lost two people he cared for already and could possibly lose another one.

Finally finding a bit of strength from somewhere, Klink stood up straight again and quickly filled with rage. He _knew_ it had to be Walters behind it all, now. The lieutenant had blamed someone else for shooting Hogan, the man was absent when Mueller's body had been found, and a gun fired twice found in Schneider's jacket assumed to be the weapon that was used on Hogan. He knew Schneider better than to shoot a prisoner by going 'trigger happy'. The private never did anything unless he specifically gave the man orders. Half of the time, Schneider did not even _speak_ unless Klink directly spoke to him first. Perhaps the prisoners were right about Walters. He could believe it after putting up with the lieutenant's snarky, rude, arrogant, and aggressive behavior towards the other prisoners, guards, and he himself. The problem is with how little evidence he had other than his own assumptions, how would he prove that the lieutenant did it? For now, he would try to set things right. As soon as he left the cooler, Klink would track down the lieutenant and have a very intense interrogation with the man. He would do it for young Corporal Mueller, who died so bravely and protecting the others around him. He would do it for Private Schneider, who by tomorrow morning would be shot dead for a crime he had not committed. And most importantly, he would do it for his friend, who currently was struggling to survive and fighting so hard to come back to his friends and fellow prison mates: Colonel Robert Hogan.

Klink puffed out his chest, stood tall and held his ground, and made his way out of the cooler. He had three lives who deserved their justice, and he was determined to do so with everything he could do.

* * *

Hogan's men and Schultz watched Hochstetter with his two men take off with Schneider in their car. The five of them all knew the private's fate ahead of him.

"Poor mate," Newkirk sadly said.

"He didn't deserve this, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said, shaking his head.

"I hope at least that he doesn't suffer for too long." Carter spoke, with a frown.

"I heard that Kommandant Klink was going to give him a promotion to corporal at the end of the month, too." Schultz sighed.

"Then we will remember him as Corporal Schneider, then," Kinch said.

They all nodded, agreeing with that. They would remember the man as Corporal Schneider and what he had done for the five of them in the time period they had known the man. The man who died with courage and bravery for something he had not even done.

Kinch turned his head and stared in the direction of the cooler. He saw Klink storming towards them. He was steaming hot. The radioman had never seen the Luftwaffe officer so angry in his life. To be honest, he did not even think Klink could _get_ that angry. Whatever it was, he knew someone was in for it big time with the old German colonel.

Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk, and Schultz all turned to see what Kinch was looking at and gulped seeing how furious Klink looked.

"Blimey! What's wrong with Klink?" Newkirk gasped.

"He is _fou aveugle_ ," LeBeau said, stunned.

"Louis, what the bloody hell does that mean?"

"He's blind mad."

"Sure looks like it alright," Carter said, agreeing.

It was then Walters walked passed the five of them and was about to make his way around the Kommandantur, when Klink snapped his head towards the lieutenant and stormed in his direction.

"Lieutenant Walters," he ordered.

Walters turned around and tried feigning a smile.

"Yes, Kommandant," the lieutenant said, pleasant.

"Oh boy, he's gonna get it!" LeBeau cheered softly. The little Frenchman could hardly hold back from jumping up and down with excitement.

"Maybe Klink will do the job _for_ us," Newkirk said, smiling.

"You get 'em, Kommandant!" Carter cried, loud enough for just the five of them to hear.

Kinch grinned from ear to ear and gestured for them to listen and watch more.

"Something the matter, Kommandant?" Walters asked, innocently.

"Lieutenant Walters, I want you in my office immediately! Any complaints regarding it, and I will have you locked up in the cooler and shot! Do I make myself clear?!" Klink hissed.

"Crystal clear, Kommandant," Walters said, smiling and through gritted teeth.

The German colonel turned to his sergeant of the guard.

"Schultz!"

The big guard made his way over to Klink.

"Yes, _Herr Kommandant_?" Schultz asked, eager.

"Escort this young man to my office. I want to ask him a few questions." Klink answered, glaring at the lieutenant.

Walters was giving Klink his best innocent look while on the inside, he had daggers in his eyes and was imagining the moment he would finally dispose of the German colonel.

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_! I will do so immediately!" Schultz turned to Walters and glowered his eyes at the lieutenant. "You! Get moving! Kommandant Klink's orders!"

Walters snapped his head at the sergeant and peered his eyes at him. Not wanting to push his luck, he followed Klink up the stairs of the Kommandantur and disappeared inside with the two Germans.

"Come on! I wanna hear Klink give him a taste of his own medicine!" LeBeau cheered.

"Oh, I don't wanna miss this for all the tea in Britain!" Newkirk cried, rubbing his hands together, pumped.

The four of Hogan's men hurried inside to their commanding officer's room and turned on the coffee pot to listen in on their dear little 'friend'.

* * *

(1) _Bon sang_ \- 'Damn it' in French.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19:**

Walters got comfy in the chair across from Klink's desk. Schultz stood guard of the door to make sure no one uninvited walked in. Klink was not sure why he had that order in play to begin with. The only person who made surprise visits was now how many miles away in a medical facility fighting for his life. That thought increased his anger, and Klink made his way to his desk chair and sat down facing the lieutenant. He stared coldly at the lieutenant, who he assumed was doing the exact thing back. The old colonel decided to cut to the chase of it all and start from the get go.

"Lieutenant Walters, do you know _why_ I have called you in here?" Klink asked coolly.

Walters raised an eyebrow, irritated that his walk had been put into a 'halt'.

"No, which is why I'm aggravated with my leisurely walk being disturbed." Walters answered calmly. It took all of Walters's control to not lose his cool and strangle the Luftwaffe officer right there and then.

"Walters, it has come to my attention that the prisoners are not typically, eh... _fond_ of you." Klink began.

The lieutenant merely smirked then chuckled softly.

"Kommandant, you're calling me in here to give me a friendly shoulder to lean on? I thought you, out of all Germans, would never be friendly with the enemy." Walters replied cocky.

Klink let out a heavy breath through his nose like a bull about to take charge. He had never met such a smug, arrogant, incompetent man in his life. _Hochstetter_ was more decent than this man. And sure, Hogan had said snarky things to the Kommandant before, but he could always tell it was somewhat friendly and not meant to be taken personally. He sure wished his Senior POW Officer was there now to make this man shut up and listen. Remembering who he was doing this for, Klink collected himself and continued on.

"No, I am _not_ 'lending a friendly shoulder' as you call it," he spat. " _Several_ prisoners have reported to me that you were responsible for the shooting of Colonel Hogan. Is that true, Lieutenant?"

"You're not gonna believe them, are you, Kommandant? They're grieving still over their loss. They need someone to blame and who else will they pick other than the closest target?"

How Klink wished that Hochstetter was back to wipe that smug look of the man's face. The Gestapo officer knew what it took to intimidate a person, and Klink was terrible with frightening people. He tried thinking of everything he had seen the major do to people while interrogating them in his office. Coming up with little, Klink continued to the best of his ability.

" _Grief_ is one thing, Lieutenant. It's _another_ when over twenty prisoners have reported the same story to me time and time again. What they all have been saying is that _you_ pulled out a gun from your jacket and fired it twice at Colonel Hogan shooting him in the abdomen."

He rose from his seat, walked around his desk, and leaned as close as he dared towards the man. He glared at him icy, rage fueling him on the inside.

"Why did you do it, Walters?" Klink asked, making it sound more like an order.

"I _didn't_ ," answered Walters.

"AH HA! Liar!" The old Kommandant straightened and turned to look at his sergeant. "Schultz, escort this man to the cooler!"

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_!" Schultz replied firmly. "Let's go! _Schnell_!"

The fluffy guard grabbed Walters by his arms and lead the man out the door.

Getting an idea coming to his head, Walters stopped and shook his head sadly.

"Have fun with the real killer out there, Kommandant," Walters warned.

"Wait a minute!" Klink stopped Schultz from taking Walters anywhere further. The Kommandant approached the lieutenant and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He was now suspicious with what Walters was referring to. "What do you mean 'have fun with the real killer out there'?"

"Exactly what it sounds like, Kommandant. You can lock me up in the cooler all you want, but it won't stop the real man behind this that's still wandering around out there."

"I don't believe you."

"I got a glimpse of the guy before he fled the night Colonel Hogan was shot. He was wearing all black clothing and had dark hair. Having it be dark out, the man was easy to blend in with the rest of the night. Jumped over the wire right as you, Sergeant Schultz, and Corporal Langenscheidt were heading over."

Klink swallowed a sudden knot in his throat. His anger had vanished and suddenly fear had overtaken him.

"You don't mean...the one that killed Corporal Mueller?" Klink shivered.

Walters nodded.

Klink recomposed himself. He was not completely bought yet on the idea.

"How did the man then manage to sneak into camp and plant the weapon used to shoot Colonel Hogan on Private Schneider, then?" The Kommandant questioned.

Walters shrugged his shoulders.

"I couldn't tell you, Kommandant. Same way he snuck into camp and shot Colonel Hogan before. Same way he snuck into camp and murdered Corporal Mueller."

Klink stepped back and again swallowed another knot in his throat. He turned to Schultz, starting to tremor.

"Schultz, let Lieutenant Walters go," Klink ordered, shaky.

The big guard nodded sadly. He gently let go of Walters, who quickly wiped his arms as if he had been infected by some parasite. He saluted extremely sloppy to Klink and made his way out of the Kommandantur to resume his walk around camp.

* * *

"HE'S BLOODY LYING, KOMMANDANT!" Newkirk yelled.

"Don't listen to him, Klink!" LeBeau pleaded.

Hearing the door to Klink's office slam shut, Kinch shook his head sadly and unplugged the coffee pot.

"Forget it, guys. Walters smuggled his way out the same way the Colonel would do in tight situations involving him," he said sadly.

"Why if I get my hands on him-!" LeBeau growled and clenched his fists open and shut. He was steaming mad. He had tricked Klink into thinking it was some mad man who had hurt Hogan, and he would not allow Walters to walk away so easy.

"I'll help ya, Louis. Tell me how ya want him gotten rid of." Newkirk snapped.

"Hold it, hold it," Kinch said, holding up his hands. "We're not killing Walters, remember?"

"But, Kinch!" LeBeau cried.

"Look what he did to the Gov'nor!" Newkirk shouted.

"We will honor Colonel Hogan's rules as if he were still here to enforce them himself. Just because he's not here doesn't mean we can start breaking his rules like they meant nothing," Kinch ordered.

Carter sighed sadly.

"Boy, do I miss him," the young sergeant softly said.

" _Oui_ ," LeBeau nodded. "I miss him more and more each day. It's not the same here without _mon Colonel_."

"What are we gonna do without him, mates?" Newkirk asked, depressed.

"Hey. Colonel Hogan isn't gone completely. He's still with us in here," Kinch said, pointing to his heart. He was giving a soft smile, though he wished it was impossible to do so. He missed Hogan just as much as his friends did. Without their commanding officer there, their lives were dark and grim. Their source of sunshine was gone.

"You're right, Kinch. Colonel Hogan will _always_ be with us!" LeBeau replied, proud.

"I'll keep him there for as long as I live," Carter said, giving a small smile. As much as he missed Hogan, thinking about him, his determination, his strength, his kindness, his quick wits and brilliant mind, it made him smile and honored to have known such a wonderful, loving man in his life. No one would ever replace Hogan in his heart and knew that it was the same for his best friends.

"So," Newkirk said awkwardly. "How do we get rid of this parasite, then?"

LeBeau and Carter turned to look at Kinch. They hoped their friend had a plan in mind. If it was not Hogan, Kinch was the one that came up with the clever ideas out of a situation.

"Walters likes to manipulate others into doing terrible things for him, right?" The radioman asked.

Carter scoffed.

" _More_ than manipulate them," the young sergeant mumbled.

"What if we had Walters try and force one of the prisoners to try and kill someone?"

"Kinch, yah've gone bloody balmy!" Newkirk cried.

" _Il est devenu fou_!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"No one's actually gonna die, guys. 'Cause we're gonna get Klink to see it before it happens." Kinch clarified.

"What do you mean?" Carter asked, confused.

"We'll lure Walters into forcing one of the prisoners into killing another one. As that guy's about to commit the crime, we'll get Klink to see what's happening, and he'll see Walters is a mad man."

"And since Klink will catch him in the act, there's no way he could talk his way out of it!" Newkirk cried, coming to realization.

"Exactly," Kinch said, growing a grin on his face.

"Kinch, you're beautiful, mate!"

" _Oui. C'est brilliant_!" LeBeau gleamed.

"Boy, I wish I would've thought of that," Carter said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"When do we do it, _mon ami_?" LeBeau asked, excited.

"In a few days. I'd like to fill London in first on what's happened with the Colonel." The radioman answered crossing his arms. "I haven't had much time to radio them and notify them with everything that's been going on recently."

"How do you think General Berkman's gonna take it?" Newkirk wondered.

"He and _mon Colonel_ are good friends." LeBeau added.

"I know. Which is why I'm worried about telling him," Kinch said.

"He'll find out eventually, mate," Newkirk pointed out.

Kinch nodded.

"I know, Newkirk. Just wish I knew what I was gonna say." He answered.

"Just say what happened. That's all you can do," LeBeau said.

The radioman nodded.

"Alright. I'm gonna do that right now...wish me luck."

"Good luck," Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau said simultaneously.

Kinch walked out of Hogan's office, leaving his three friends to themselves.

"How do you think London's gonna handle hearing the news?" LeBeau asked.

"It's a tricky call to make, Louis," Newkirk said, crossing his arms.

"You think they'll make us send Walters back to London instead of what we have planned?" Carter questioned.

"Possibly," the Englishman said.

"Which means what if that happens?" LeBeau asked.

"We're gonna be in big trouble."

* * *

(1) _Il est devenu fou_ \- 'He's gone mad!' in French.

(2) _Oui. C'est brilliant_ \- 'Yes. It's brilliant!' in French.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20:**

Kinch sat at the radio table with his headset on reviewing what he would tell Berkman. The old general was fond of Hogan and had been a reason that their commanding officer had obtained his current ranking status. Hearing the news that his health was in critical condition would kill the old man. He had to do it, though. After everything Berkman had done for them, he owed him that much.

Sighing, he turned to the correct channel and asked for London to come in.

"Papa Bear to Mama Bear, Papa Bear to Mama Bear, come in, Mama Bear."

Kinch did not have long to wait.

" _Mama Bear here. What do you need, Papa Bear_?"

"In need to speak with General Berkman. It's rather urgent."

" _Hold for one minute, Papa Bear_."

Kinch sat there in silence for a while. He tapped his fingertips on the wooden table waiting for someone to pick up. Just as he was about to turn off the radio, it crackled and a familiar voice came through.

" _General Berkman speaking_."

Kinch smiled small.

"It's Sergeant Kinchloe, General," the radioman said.

" _Sergeant, how are you doing_?"

Kinch sighed.

"Things have been better, General. I can say that for sure."

" _Something wrong over there_?"

"Actually, General, yes. Something's _very_ wrong."

" _What is it, Sergeant_?"

The radioman swallowed. Here came the hard stuff. He had to break it to Berkman gently. He hated to tell the friendly general the news, but he needed to know.

"General, Colonel Hogan was shot twice in the stomach about a week and a half ago. He's currently at a hospital in Berlin in a coma. His chances of surviving do not look well as of now. He's lost a lot of blood, and Camp Medic Wilson believes there may be a blood clot somewhere in his lungs due to his gunshot wounds."

Kinch did not hear anything for a long while. At one point, he was worried the old man keeled over from the news. Eventually, his fear got the best of him.

"General Berkman, are you there, sir?"

Berkman gave a heavy sigh.

" _I'm here, Sergeant_ ," he sadly said.

"I'm sorry to break the news to you like this, General, but we all thought you deserved to know. Colonel Hogan would have wanted you to know, too."

" _I know, Sergeant. I'll be alright...it's just...hearing this about Robert...it's heartbreaking. He's a good man with a good future ahead of him_."

"Colonel Hogan's the best guy a person could know. No one could take his place."

" _I agree. Sergeant Kinchloe, as of now, I am making you head of the operation. Depending on how Robert's condition progresses, I will either return seniority to him once he has recovered, or…_ " Berkman stopped. Kinch could hear the hesitant and pain in his voice. The radioman felt sorry for the older gentlemen. Hogan was basically a son to the man. Whenever they needed someone to pull through for them in London, Berkman was always there at the drop of the dime. He did whatever he could possible to make sure the guys at Stalag 13 could successfully do their jobs and get along for their time being prisoners of war.

"General, it's alright. We don't need to discuss that possibility right now if you don't want to," Kinch said softly. He wanted to make it as easy on the general as possible.

" _I'll be alright as I said before, Sergeant. Just a lot to take in right now is all._ "

"I couldn't agree with you more, General."

" _Is there anything else_?"

Kinch thought for a while. Perhaps Berkman knew something on Walters that could help them get rid of the lieutenant. It was worth a try, at least.

"Actually, General, yeah. Do you by chance know anything about a Lieutenant Richard Walters in the USA Army Air Corps?"

" _Walters...sounds familiar, but I can't put a face to the name. Why do you ask_?"

"He's been causing quite a bit of trouble here for us, General. We believe him to be a sociopath."

" _My God...are you alright? Are the others_?"

"Everyone's fine, General."

" _Do you want me to send a plane out there for him? I can have him gladly transferred to a mental hospital here in London_."

"It's a nice offer, General, but it's too dangerous for us and the operation to do so. This man is extremely dangerous. For what reasons, I don't know. Only Colonel Hogan knew the answer to that."

" _What do you plan on doing to get rid of him, then_?"

"I've got an idea in mind, but it's too difficult of a situation to discuss over the radio."

" _I understand. Just be careful is my only order. I can't have another one of you end up like Robert is currently_."

Kinch smiled. That was one of the things he loved about Berkman. He always put them first.

"Don't worry, General. We'll be safe."

" _If you say so, Sergeant. And do not say one word of the operation to this Walters that's causing a problem over there_."

"You sound like the Colonel."

Berkman could be heard softly chuckling.

" _We think a lot alike, Sergeant_."

"I guess so."

" _You guys take care, and I'll look into finding out more about this Lieutenant Walters. It's a good thing I'm not there to handle him, let's just say. General Berkman out_."

"Papa Bear over and out."

Kinch took off the headset and carefully lay it on the table in front of him. It had gone better than he had expected, but there still remained Walters as a problem. If his plan did not go through fully, another innocent man would die from the natural disaster known as Lieutenant Richard Walters. Kinch could not allow another life to die. Captain Fischer had died from Walters. Corporal Mueller died from Walters. Hogan was, as of now, more than certain to die from Walters. Now Private Schneider would die because of Walters. There was also Carter, who was forever mentally scarred from Walters and what he had done to him.

The man needed to be stopped now before another life was lost because of him. Kinch was determined, and he was certain the others were, too, on putting an end to this nightmare once and for all. They had to for Captain Fischer. For Corporal Mueller. For Private Schneider. And most of all, they had to end it for Colonel Hogan. Walters would not walk away without punishment after what he had possibly taken from them forever. Hogan's name would not go unavenged.

Kinch rose to his feet and was about to climb back up into the barracks, when he stopped and saw Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter standing there looking at him. Their faces were filled with concern and worry.

"What did General Berkman say, Kinch?" Carter asked, breaking the silence.

The radioman sighed and crossed his arms.

"He wasn't too happy about the Colonel's current condition, but he took it pretty well." Kinch answered.

"Poor guy," Newkirk sadly said.

"He and _mon Colonel_ are good friends with each other." LeBeau added.

"Did he say anything about Walters, mate?" Newkirk asked.

"He said he was going to look into it and see what he could do, but to be careful with handling the situation. He doesn't want another person hurt because of this guy." Kinch answered.

"Filthy bosche," LeBeau grumbled.

"Wish I could strangle the man. Watching him cry out for mercy would be the greatest joy of this entire situation." Newkirk hissed, cracking his knuckles.

"Kinch, I wanna see him pay for what he did to Colonel Hogan. I won't stand here and let him get away with this like he did with Captain Fischer," Carter said, determined.

"Don't worry, Carter. After Klink catches Walters in the act with our plan, he's gonna be _begging_ to deal with Major Hochstetter." Kinch spoke, his voice hiding a bit of callousness in it.

"The sooner we do this thing, the better." Newkirk answered.

"Let's wait to do it until we hear back from General Berkman. Who knows; maybe he'll have more information for us to use against Walters," Kinch said.

"Kinch, you think this'll work?" Carter asked.

"It better, or I'm gonna have something to say about it," Newkirk remarked, nasty.

"Don't worry, Newkirk...we'll get him. Believe me, we'll get him," Kinch said firmly.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21:**

About another 48 hours had gone by, and Kinch had still not heard anything back from Berkman with any news on Walters. Hogan's men began to wonder whether Berkman could not find anymore information on Walters or he was just blowing it off like a lot of people in London did with their requests at times. Knowing the old general to be the way that he was, they assumed it was the first one.

While they continued to worry over London, Walters had his mind occupied on other issues. He would watch Klink constantly. At least three times a day the lieutenant would sit outside on the bench of barracks two and just gawk at the old German. The lieutenant wanted to know every detail possible on Klink and what would make the easiest time to try and kill him. His schedule, his behavior, how many times there were other people around watching him to make sure no one tried and caused harm to him. What he had picked up so far was that the morning proved to be the most easiest time to make his move. Klink usually was wandering around outside watching the other prisoners to make sure they were all behaving themselves.

Walters could not help himself but chuckle watching Klink. The man was a complete idiot to him. He chickened out over the smallest things and was not even competition when Hochstetter came around. He had heard Klink talk a few times about his superior officer, Burkhalter, quite a few times in the time he had been at Stalag 13 so far. He wondered what the man was like. Was he as bad as Klink? Was he like Hochstetter? Worse than Hochstetter? Was the man just as stupid as Klink was? It made him curious in knowing. Some of the Germans he had met so far were either as stupid and weak as Klink was, or tough and annoying like Hochstetter. Most of them were the stupid Germans. He wondered just how Burkhalter acted and worked. He would wait and see what this man did once he made an appearance at Stalag 13.

In the meanwhile, Walters would just keep with his plan in killing Klink and taking over the entire camp. If Burkhalter proved to be just as easy, maybe he would consider in taking up _his_ position in power. Certainly, he would have more control than Klink had. He would not be just in control of Stalag 13, but _all_ stalags in Germany. Walters gave an eerie grin and cackled softly to himself. Oh indeed, would he enjoy gaining control over Stalag 13 and starting his reign of terror over the entire camp. _That_ , to him, was certainly worth waiting for.

* * *

Inside barracks two, Kinch was down in the tunnels monitoring the radio, LeBeau was cooking lunch, and Newkirk and Carter sat at the table playing a game of gin with one another. The four of them had nothing better to do, and they could not start planning their demise of Walters's terror until they heard back from London with or without any new information on the lieutenant.

"Andrew, please make a bloody move already," Newkirk begged, with irritation. He had been sitting there at the table for the past seven minutes waiting for his friend to end his turn and continue the game. Instead, Carter looked intently at his hand and with careful thinking, was deciding which card would prove worthy to him.

"In a minute, Newkirk. I'm thinking," Carter said, glancing up at his best friend quick.

The Englishman rolled his eyes.

"Bloody hell, Andrew, the war won't last that long."

Carter sighed and finally threw a card in.

"There, happy?" Carter remarked.

" _Very_ ," Newkirk answered. He looked down at his hand and analyzed his cards carefully. He needed to make sure that his move would guarantee his win against Carter. He was in the middle of thinking, when he smelled something terrible. Newkirk put his hand down on the table and started coughing and plugging his nose.

"Blimey! Louis, what are yah ruddy making?! Smells like something bleedin' died!"

"That's your lunch," LeBeau answered, annoyed. He was offended that his cooking was being compared to the rotting corpse of an animal. " _Pont l'Eveque_ sprinkled over _tarte flambée_." The little Frenchman was proud of his French cuisine masterpiece. (1)

"I think I'll go hungry. Me appetite's gone already just _smelling_ the ruddy thing." Newkirk remarked, still plugging his nose.

Carter, thinking it smelled bad, too, was less affected by it. The worst he did was cringe.

"Louis, is it supposed to smell like that?" The young sergeant worried.

" _Oui_. That means the cheese is _just_ right, André," LeBeau said, smiling at his friend.

"Well, as long as it's _supposed_ to smell like that, I guess I won't mind trying it."

"Andrew, it was nice knowing ya, mate," Newkirk said, sounding funny. Plugging his nose had an effect on how his voice sounded.

Kinch came out from the tunnels holding a piece of paper and closed the entrance. He took one quick whaff of the air and almost fainted. " _Whoa_!"

"Same reaction I had meself, mate," Newkirk said, still plugging his nose.

"Louis, what are you making? Are you sure whatever you're using didn't expire?" Kinch asked, waving at his nose to air the smell away from him.

"Louis's making pond elk and tart flomboy," Carter said.

LeBeau shook his head and rolled his eyes.

" _Pont l'Eveque_ sprinkled over _tarte flambée_ , André," LeBeau corrected.

"Oh," Carter replied, nodding.

"Sure has a... _strong_ smell to it, LeBeau," Kinch said, cringing.

"You people have _no_ respect for fine French cuisine," LeBeau accused. He turned back to his food and admired it as he inhaled the smells.

"What's that you got, Kinch?" Newkirk asked.

"General Berkman sent back what he could find out on Walters. This was all he could dig up on him." Kinch handed the Englishman the note to read.

Forgetting about the smell from LeBeau's cooking, Newkirk took the paper and read over it carefully.

"Kinch, this is Walters's criminal history. What the bloody hell do we do with _this_?!" Newkirk exclaimed.

The radioman crossed his arms.

"Read it," was all Kinch said.

Newkirk raised an eyebrow and did as Kinch said. He looked over the information and stopped coming to something that caught his eye. He looked over it more carefully and gasped.

"Blimey...are you sure, Kinch?"

"I asked General Berkman to repeat himself three times. I did not mishear him." Kinch answered.

"What is it?" Carter asked.

"Well, this is certainly something, isn't it?" Newkirk replied, ignoring the young sergeant.

"What is?" Carter wanted to know what was going on.

"Certainly takes a spin on things," Kinch said.

"What does?!" Carter cried.

"Gov'nor, if only you could see this," Newkirk muttered.

"What are you guys talking about?!" Carter demanded. The young sergeant was done with being ignored.

"Sorry, Carter. Didn't mean to ignore you there," Kinch said. He took the paper from Newkirk and let Carter take a look at it.

The younger sergeant read through the note, and his eyes gaped at what he came across along the information.

"Holy cats!" The younger sergeant cried. "Is this right?"

Kinch nodded.

"I'm afraid so, Carter." Kinch answered.

"What's going on?" LeBeau asked, wiping his hands on his apron.

"Look at that information General Berkman sent back to us," Newkirk said, still trying to process the information himself.

The little Frenchman took the sheet of paper and read over it. He threw it away from him as soon as he came across one part like it burned him to touch it. His eyes shot out of his head and the color in his face drained.

" _Sacré chats_!" LeBeau shrieked. "Tell me it isn't true, Kinch!"

"I wish I could, Louis, but I can't," Kinch said.

"He's...Walters is...he's a...he's," Carter was cut off by the radioman.

"Walters has pyromania...four accounts of setting abandoned warehouses on fire and another account for threatening a co. worker with lighting them on fire. General Berkman was able to track down this information after getting permission from the psychiatric hospital Walters was admitted to in the mid 30s'. It was under 'Confidential Information' I assume due to patient privacy." (2)

"You mean to tell me I share a barracks with _un pyromane_?!" LeBeau cried. (3)

"Kinch, he's gotta go... _now_ ," Newkirk ordered.

"He'll kill us, Kinch!" Carter exclaimed.

"Alright, our plan goes into action tomorrow morning right after roll call. The longer Walters is here, the more of a threat he imposes to us and the operation," Kinch said.

"Oh, Colonel! Where are you when we need you?" Carter whimpered.

"I sure wish _mon Colonel_ were here. He always knew what to say to calm us down," LeBeau said, his voice filled with fear.

"Come on, guys. We're not giving ourselves enough credit here. Sure, we miss Colonel Hogan. We want him here, he had brilliant ideas, he was always the one we went to for advice, but we can do that stuff, too. We're not powerless without him," Kinch said, trying to remain positive.

"Well, then why do I _feel_ so powerless?" LeBeau grumbled, crossing his arms.

Kinch sighed and looked at all of them with sympathy. He shared the same pain that they did.

"Because we miss him and that we feel like we'll lose him if we try and move on without him." The radioman answered softly.

"Boy, do I really miss him," Carter croaked.

"Kinch, it ain't the same without him." Newkirk spoke.

" _Oui_. I agree," LeBeau sadly said.

"I know. I miss him, too, guys...more on some days than others." Kinch answered.

"I say we all go through with this plan and do the best darn job we can possible. For the Gov'nor." Newkirk spoke, with determination.

"Now _that's_ the attitude I wanna hear, Newkirk," Kinch said, smiling.

" _Oui_ , I'm in!" LeBeau added.

"Count me in, boy!" Carter spoke, with energy.

"Newkirk, I want you to take every cigarette, match, and lighter you have and keep it under lock and key in a hidden area. We don't need to risk a chance at Walters getting a hold of them and setting this place into flames," Kinch said, turning to the Englishman with a serious look.

"Got it, mate."

"Walters, you're gonna crash and burn, and it won't be from a match and flame."

They all smiled with a sparkle of mischief in their eyes.

* * *

(1) A very smelly French cheese sprinkled on top of flamed tarts. I'm not sure if it's an actual meal in French, but looked it up online and seemed to fit.

(2) Refer back to chapter three, I believe, and see Walters's threat to Kinch, LeBeau, and Newkirk before the lieutenant barged in on the conversation between Hogan and Carter.

(3) _Un pyromane_ \- a pyromaniac.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22:**

"Roll call! Everybody up, up, up, up, up! _Raus_!" Schultz bellowed.

All the prisoners moaned, as the lights were flicked on in the dark barracks.

"Oh, come on, Schultz! It's only 5:30 in the morning." Carter groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Kommandant Klink's orders. Up! All of you! Up!" Schultz commanded.

The prisoners in barracks two moaned again and sat up in their bunks. Schultz left the barracks for the men to get dressed and ready for morning roll call.

As the four of Hogan's men were getting ready, Walters walked over to them with a hard look on his face.

"Alright, all of you. Get dressed quick," Walters ordered.

Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau all snapped their heads towards the lieutenant and gave him a hard glare. The hatred for the man could be seen in all their eyes.

"Sir, I'd walk away if I were you. I don't play well with Yanks." Newkirk hissed.

"Is that how you speak to a military officer, Corporal?" Walters countered.

"Some of them...especially ones that hurt kind, brave colonels!" LeBeau growled.

Walters glared at the little Frenchman, then turned to look at Carter.

" _You'll_ listen to my orders, won't you, Rat?"

"The only orders I'll listen to are Colonel Hogan's and Sergeant Kinchloe's! And if Colonel Hogan dies, boy are you gonna be sorry!" Carter snapped.

Walters glared coldly at the young sergeant and walked away quickly to another part of the barracks.

"Great job, Carter," Kinch said, beaming.

"You told him, Andrew!" Newkirk spoke, proud.

"That was _great_ , André!" LeBeau cheered.

"Aw gee, guys. You're embarrassing me," Carter said, turning red.

Newkirk smirked and patted his best friend's shoulder gently.

"Come on, mates. Let's get ready for roll call."

* * *

"And I want all of you to remember once General Burkhalter gets here in another two weeks, all of you will be civil, decent, and cooperative men and not cause any mischief during his stay here. If anyone refuses to listen to those orders, that person will serve 90 days in the cooler and revoked privileges for three months. Any questions?" Klink spoke.

"Kommandant, don't you think that's a bit harsh of a punishment? 90 days in the cooler is enough as it is," Kinch said respectfully.

"Sergeant Kinchloe, I will not have General Burkhalter be disturbed. Now either you can live with that punishment, or I will change it to all prisoners in barracks two serve the same if such a thing occurs! Which do you prefer?"

"Just a suggestion is all," Kinch softly said. He didn't dare push Klink any further.

"Good. Diiiiiiisssssmiiiiiiiisssssed!"

Klink turned sharp on his boot and made his way back to the Kommandantur. The prisoners disbursed amongst themselves and went out on their daily business.

Walters walked off from the rest of the men and grew a malicious smile to his face. He rubbed his hands together and walked off to prepare for his plan that would happen later that morning.

Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter made their way back into the barracks and sat down at the table after grabbing cups of coffee.

"Alright, guys. After breakfast, we put our plan into motion," Kinch said.

"You think it'll work, Kinch?" Carter asked, worried.

"I hope so. If not, we're gonna be in deep trouble."

"If it doesn't, someone _else_ may die next." Newkirk answered.

"Who do you think he'd go after next, Pierre?" LeBeau asked.

"Beats me. The man's so batty, he might try for one of us."

"I will not let that happen! Filthy bosche will have to try a _lot_ to try and kill me!"

"I'll just be glad the minute he's gotten rid of. He's tormented me long enough," Carter said, sighing.

"That filthy bastard ain't gonna lay a single hand on ya, if _I've_ got something to say about it, Andrew." Newkirk snarled.

The room fell silent, before LeBeau spoke and started a new conversation.

"Kinch, have you heard anything on _mon Colonel_?"

"Wish I could say 'yes' to that question, Louis. I haven't heard anything from Dr. Trommler in over two weeks, now."

"I sure hope he's getting better. I don't know what I'll do if the Gov'nor dies." Newkirk sadly lamented.

"Dr. Trommler promised he was gonna do everything he can for the Colonel. If Richard knows this guy, he's gonna do just that," Kinch said.

"I trust Richard. If he says that Dr. Trommler's a good doctor, then I believe him." Carter answered.

LeBeau sighed, got up, and approached the stove. "Well, I'm going to make breakfast. What would you all like?" The little Frenchman asked.

"Anything that doesn't have the pec a la point stuff in it." Newkirk grumbled.

"It's," LeBeau stopped and took in a sharp breath of air. "Nevermind." The little Frenchman angrily grabbed a pan and put it on the stove to begin making breakfast.

"Hey, Kinch, why do people go into comas?" Carter asked, curious.

Kinch let out a deep breath. "'S a good question, Carter. Don't know if I have the answer for you."

"If I remember correctly, I think it's a way to help the body heal itself from severe trauma without any arousal taking place. Certain parts of the brain are injured and the coma helps that person from injuring that part of the body any further," Newkirk said.

LeBeau, Kinch, and Carter all turned to the Englishman and gaped at him.

"What? I listen to Joe every once and awhile," Newkirk remarked.

"Yeah. Whenever _you're_ the victim," LeBeau retorted.

"Alright, you guys. Settle down," Kinch said calmly.

"What part of Colonel Hogan's brain do you think made him go into a coma?" Carter asked.

"Beats the hell outta me, mate," Newkirk said, taking a drag on his cigarette.

"How do you know why people go into a coma, but not know which parts of the brain it affects?" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Sorry I'm not a ruddy doctor, Louis! If I was one, I wouldn't _be_ here, now would I?" Newkirk remarked snippy.

"I know all four brain lobes, but other than that, I got _nothing_ ," Carter said, twiddling his thumbs.

"Join the party, Andrew."

"Wonder what it's like to be in a coma."

"Ya wanna find out?"

"No, just curious is all."

"You'll have to ask _mon Colonel_ when... _if_ he comes back to us," LeBeau sadly said.

"Bloody hate that word…'if'," Newkirk muttered.

"It shouldn't be 'if'. _Mon Colonel_ should be here with us! He should be sitting right there at the table now." LeBeau pointed to the vacated spot at the table where Hogan always sat at meals or whenever he was socializing with them.

"You can thank Mr…" Carter stopped. It still pained him to remember the night Hogan was shot. It was almost forbidden for him to recall the event. He sure hoped that would not be the last time he ever spoke to his commanding officer.

Kinch noticed Carter's discomfort and patted his shoulder gently.

"It'll be alright, Carter. We're gonna get rid of this guy, and you'll never have to worry about him again," Kinch said with a soft smile.

"Sure hope you're right, Kinch…'cause if you're not, I'm not sure _what_ I'll do."

* * *

Breakfast went by quickly, and the four of Hogan's men returned outside and watched Walters from barracks two. Kinch was surrounded by Carter and LeBeau on his right and Newkirk on his left. They were waiting for the perfect moment to start their assignment.

"You think Olsen will be able to do it?" LeBeau asked.

"I hope so, Louis. We need him to in order for this to work," Kinch said. His eyes never strayed from the lieutenant walking around.

The doors to the Kommandantur opened, and Klink walked out onto the porch wearing his hat, trench coat, gloves, and carrying his swagger stick.

"Hey, there's Klink," Carter pointed out.

"Wonder what he wants," Newkirk commented.

"Hopefully he'll do the job _for_ us." LeBeau prayed.

Walters looked up and found Klink walking down the stairs of the Kommandantur. He gave a wicked grin, softly chuckled to himself, and began approaching Klink. Time for him to make his move. Once he got rid of Klink, the whole camp would be his. He would be the top dog and no one would be able to stop him. There was, of course, this General Burkhalter that everyone spoke of from time to time. He would deal with the man later.

Klink had reached the compound and took two steps away from the building. He was about to turn to his car parked besides the building, when Walters reached him.

"Kommandant, where are you off to?" Walters asked.

"Off to town for a couple hours. I have a few errands to run. Sergeant Schultz is in charge while I am out." Klink replied.

Walters laughed to himself. Schultz being in charge was a complete joke to him. The man was nothing more than a big teddy bear. He was not suited for war, but a bunch of monkeys for guards would make the lieutenant's reign that much easier for him to maintain.

"I say, Kommandant. You look ravishing in that coat!" Walters gasped. He acted amazed at how well his Kommandant dressed. Buttering Klink up was the hook to his plan.

"Really?" Klink asked, flattered. "Why thank you, Lieutenant. I do try hard to keep my appearance up."

"Your efforts show, sir. Where did you get that jacket? It looks like it keeps you very warm in cold weather."

"Where did I get _this_?" Klink looked down at his jacket and pulled on it a bit. He lifted his head and returned his gaze to Walters. "Why, I think it was a birthday present from my mother one year."

While Klink continued with his spiel and completely unaware of his surroundings, Walters sided up besides the man. He dug in his coat pocket to a small hidden compartment and pulled out his pocket knife. He flicked it open and quickly grabbed Klink by the neck and pulled him close to him with one arm and held the knife to his neck with the other.

"Lieutenant! What are you doing?!" Klink wailed. He almost tried pulling away from the man, but once he saw the knife being held close to his throat, he decided against it. "Schultz," he gasped helplessly.

"Alright, listen up here, fellas! Any of you take one step further, and I kill him!" Walters hissed.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** Alright, I'll stop torturing you guys with suspense. Here's chapter 23! Hope it's a good one! :)

* * *

 **Chapter 23:**

The entire compound stopped of any activity. Hogan's men, Schultz, who was standing besides the four men, and the prisoners and guards present just stood their agape at what they were seeing. Their current Senior POW Officer had their Kommandant at knife-point and could kill him at any moment with or without them taking any action to try and stop it.

One guard, a private, had the guts to lift his rifle and lock and load his gun.

"I wouldn't try if I were you, Private. I'll kill your precious Kommandant before that bullet even reaches me." Walters sneered.

The private shook in his boots and lowered his gun. He swallowed hard and looked fearfully at his commanding officer. He had to save him, but how?

"Let Kommandant Klink go!" A prisoner cried out. He was no more than 19 years old.

"A prisoner defending a Kraut, huh?" Walters hissed.

"He's more humane than _you'll_ ever be!" Another prisoner, an Englishman, yelled.

"Kinch, he's gonna kill Klink!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Kommandant, no!" Carter yelped.

"Schultz, help me!" Klink wailed.

The big sergeant did not make any sudden movements. He only stood there, staring at his commanding officer in horror. His lip quivered and shook softly. It brought back too many horrid memories from his time in World War I.

"Schultz, _do_ something!" Carter cried.

"Ah, ah," Schultz could not get anything else out of his mouth.

"Kinch, what do we do?!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"I'm thinking, give me a minute." Kinch tried thinking quickly. How Hogan was able to think so fast he would never know.

"We don't _have_ a minute! That bleedin' bastard might have killed Klink by the time we think of something!" Newkirk shouted.

" _None_ of you can save your weakling of a Kommandant, now. I suggest you follow my orders, and he'll remain unharmed...for _now_!" Walters snarled, the last part turning to Klink. He pressed down a bit on Klink's throat. The Kommandant struggled to pull Walters's arm away from his neck, but it was useless. He was no match to the lieutenant. His muscles and strength was not as they used to be back in World War I.

"Ge...Ge...General...Burkhalter," Klink gasped. It was becoming a bit difficult for him to breathe.

"Whoever this General Burkhalter is, he can't help you at the moment, Kommandant. You're stuck with me!" Walters answered angrily.

"What did Kommandant Klink ever do to you?!" The English prisoner called.

"I don't _need_ a reason to get rid of this whimpering little old man! He's an issue and needs to be gotten rid of!" Walters snapped back.

"Kommandant Klink did _nothing_ to you!"

"Let him go!" An American corporal pleaded.

"Schultz...get...Hochstetter." Klink gasped.

"That fraidy cat of a sergeant won't _dare_ try and save you. Just look at how frozen stiff he is now," Walters said coldly.

Klink started coughing and struggled to get air into his lungs. Things were starting to get blurry. He was sure that either he would die by being slit in the neck or from loss of oxygen. He was now _positive_ that it had been Walters who had murdered Mueller, shot Hogan, and responsible for Schneider's execution. At least he would die knowing the truth.

"That does it." Newkirk hissed. He grabbed Schultz's rifle from the fluffy guard and lock and loaded the gun. "If I aim just right, I'll get him straight in the leg or arm." He aimed the gun at his target and fired.

"Newkirk, no!" LeBeau wailed.

"Kommandant!" Carter shrieked.

Klink stood there with a blank look on his face, but was fine. Walters dropped the knife, loosened his grip on the Kommandant's throat, and fell to the ground. He had been hit by the bullet smack dab in the middle of his chest.

Newkirk stood there in shock, dropping the rifle that had been in his hands, staring at what had just happened. His eyes were bugging out of his head, and his mouth hung from its hinges. The sociopathic lieutenant, an officer of the United States Army Air Corps, had just been shot by a fellow Allied enlisted soldier. He had just committed something that could more than likely be charged as treason and had gone against Hogan's final orders. There was only one thought that was racing inside his mind at that very moment: _What have I just done_?

Carter sprinted towards Klink and finally reached him almost out of breath. Schultz and Langenscheidt hurried right behind Carter and made their ways quickly to their commander. The Kommandant was examining himself for any injuries and double-checking that he was still alive.

"Are you alright, Kommandant?" Carter asked, genuinely worried.

"I'm alive," Klink finally spoke. A wide grin came to his face. "I'm alive! Oh, thank Heaven, I'm alive!"

"Kommandant, are you okay?"

Klink turned his attention to Carter, finally noticing him.

"Huh, what, yes, Sergeant, I'm alright," he said, brushing himself off.

Carter turned to look at Walters, who was lying down face up beside the back end of Klink's car.

"Lieutenant Walters, can you hear me?" The sergeant asked hesitantly.

Nothing.

"Lieutenant Walters?"

There was no answer.

Carter turned to Klink, who was now filled with worry and knelt down beside the prisoner that nearly killed him. Langenscheidt was already on the ground next to Walters's right near his chest.

"He's not breathing, Kommandant," Langenscheidt said softly.

Hearing the gunshot, Wilson hurried from the infirmary and approached where Klink, Carter, Schultz, and Langenscheidt were. The camp medic knelt down and made a quick glance at his patient before him. He took his two fingers and ran them from behind Walters's ear down to his neck to check for a pulse.

Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau stood their watching what was in front of them. The Englishman was being held back by his two friends, so he would not sprint over to the scene to check himself.

"Please be alright, please be alright, _please_ , God! Let him be alright!" Newkirk pleaded softly.

After about a minute, Wilson looked up from checking the lieutenant's pulse at Klink with no expression to his face and softly shook his head. Walters was dead.

"No!" Newkirk wailed. The Englishman broke free from Kinch and LeBeau and sprinted towards the lieutenant. He tried breaking through the crowd of people, when Wilson grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him away from the body.

"He's gone, Newkirk!" Wilson barked.

"No!" The Englishman cried.

Kinch and LeBeau were soon enough at their friend's side. Carter walked over to join them.

As he was getting to his feet, Langenscheidt felt something bulky inside Walters's jacket. He took out a small survival knife and cut open his jacket. His jaw dropped slightly, when he saw what was the culprit. He grabbed it out slowly and stared down at it, his hands shaking; it was a pistol gun.

"Kommandant..." he barely spoke.

Klink turned to look at the young corporal.

"Yes, Langenscheidt, what is it?" He asked, a bit annoyed with all the attention on him.

"Come here, _Bitte_."

Seeing the look on Langenscheidt's face, Klink hurried towards him. When he got to the corporal, Langenscheidt was already on his feet.

"What is it, Corporal?" The kommandant asked, his body starting to shiver.

Langenscheidt slowly handed over the weapon and pointed to something on it.

"Look at the initials on this," was all he said.

Klink looked down at the gun and nearly fell over dead at the sight. There, engraved on the pistol's side, were the initials of P.H.S.

"P.H.S..." he gasped.

Langenscheidt sadly nodded.

"Private Hans Schneider." He softly spoke.

The kommandant turned to the corpse of his late prisoner and filled with rage.

"I _knew_ I should have locked you in the cooler." He sneered, remembering the night Walters had persuaded him to have gone free. Had he done it sooner, perhaps Hochstetter would have changed his opinion and finally let Private Schneider gone free...but it was too late, now. Schneider was gone, and now Walters was gone, too.

Regaining a professional behavior, Klink turned to his two comrades standing before him. "Schultz, you and Corporal Langenscheidt remove the body and bring it to the infirmary. Once you get that taken care of, meet me back in my office. I am calling General Burkhalter regarding this immediately," he ordered.

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_!" Langenscheidt answered, strong.

"I will hurry back, _Herr Kommandant_ ," Schultz said.

The two German guards picked up Walters's now lifeless body and carried it off to the infirmary.

Once they were gone, Klink made his way to Newkirk, who had gone into a bit of shock.

"Corporal Newkirk," he said, shocked himself. "You saved my life! For three weeks, you will get _two_ slices of white bread per ration...with butter!"

Newkirk just barely nodded.

"Thanks, Kommandant," he said, almost ghost like. His eyes looked like they were off in the distance, his mind elsewhere.

Klink walked off towards the rest of his guards and spoke to them with a loud voice.

"Guards, for three weeks, Corporal Newkirk is treated as an equal!" What Klink said after that, the five prisoners could not hear.

"Man, now I wish _I_ would've been the one to save Klink," LeBeau grumbled to himself.

Kinch rolled his eyes, shook his head gently, then turned back to look at Newkirk.

"I...killed him...I... _killed_ him!" Newkirk quivered.

"It was an accident, buddy. You didn't _mean_ to kill him," Carter said, comforting.

"I saved a German...oh, God, I saved a bleedin' German!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"It's alright, Pierre. Klink's a part of the operation. Everything Colonel Hogan worked for would have been destroyed, if Klink had been killed," LeBeau pointed out.

"Louis's right, Newkirk. Without Klink, the operation would be over." Carter added in.

"Kinch, the Gov'nor's gonna kill me!" Newkirk cried, grabbing onto the radioman's jacket collar.

"It's gonna be alright, Newkirk. We're gonna figure this out," Kinch said softly.

"I could be court martialed...I could be shot!" The Englishman panicked. "Help me, Kinch, help me!"

"Calm down, Newkirk," Wilson urged. "Freaking out isn't gonna bring Walters back anymore than not freaking out will. That bullet went straight through his aorta in the heart's left ventricle. He died instantly; there was nothing I could do."

Newkirk swallowed a huge knot in his throat.

"I'm done...I'm done for...the Gov'nor's gonna murder me. I'll never see another bleedin' roll call again!"

"It's gonna be alright, _mon ami_. _Mon Colonel_ will understand," LeBeau said.

Newkirk shook his head, still not able to register what he had just done.

"I killed him...I killed an Allied officer." He trembled.

"It's not like you did it on purpose, Pierre." The little Frenchman continued.

"It was an accident. A horrible, terrible accident," Wilson said softly.

"Well...I wouldn't say _horrible_ accident."

Wilson gave LeBeau a stern glare, then returned his eyes to the shaking Englishman that was usually so composed and hid his emotions back from getting to him. He thought he would never see the day where Newkirk would confront something so mentally shattering, it would leave him psychologically traumatized.

"Newkirk, if you hadn't killed Walters, Klink would be dead right now. We'd have him for a commanding officer. He would have gone after more prisoners and guards to murder. You stopped a complete bloodshed at Stalag 13 from happening." Kinch spoke gently.

"What about the Gov'nor? He said 'no one was supposed to kill him'!"

"I think Colonel Hogan will understand the fact that you unintentionally tried to kill Walters. You were trying to aim for his leg or arm, and you aimed Schultz's gun too high on accident."

"You heard Klink! He's calling Burkhalter about it!"

"It's gonna be alright, Newkirk. I promise you."

The British corporal took a sharp, uneasy breath in and swallowed.

"Kinch, if I've never said it before until now, I sure hope you're right, mate." He tremored.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24:**

Nighttime fell quickly that day. No one really discussed much of what happened that morning in the compound. They were still in too much of a shock to really comprehend it all. Newkirk, on the other hand, was lost in his own mind and thoughts trying to comprehend the events of the day.

It was after dinner, and Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter were sitting at the table talking with one another about today.

"I just can't believe he's gone," Carter gasped. "I thought that he was never gonna leave me again...now he's gone." The young sergeant was still stunned with the fact that the man who had horrified him the most was now dead and never able to harm or humiliated him again. As relieved as he was that his worst nightmare was gone, it still surprised him. He thought he would _never_ get away from Walters for the rest of his life.

"I don't get it!" Newkirk cried. "I checked my aiming and everything. How did I fire smack dab in his chest?"

"We make errors, Newkirk. You wouldn't be human if you didn't." Kinch answered.

"You heard, Joe. There was no way of saving him. The bullet went straight through his aorta...whatever that is," LeBeau said.

"If I remember something that Joe told me once, I think it might be a major vein or artery that sends blood throughout the body and circulatory system. Something you don't wanna happen to yourself. He said trauma or ruptures are almost always fatal."

"I should've never picked up that gun." Newkirk murmured sadly.

"And watched as Klink slowly and painfully died leaving us with some whack job as a commanding officer and threatening the entire operation?" LeBeau asked, stunned.

"Louis makes a point, buddy," Carter said. "You did the right thing. It may not feel like it, but you saved the operation, us, Schultz, Klink, the underground, and most of all, you saved Colonel Hogan."

"Andrew, on a regular basis, I would agree with you, but this is an Allied commanding officer we're talking about. I killed an American lieutenant. I've committed a fragging. I could be put in front of a firing squad for what I've done," Newkirk replied, a whimper in his tone.

"We're gonna make sure that doesn't happen, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said softly.

"If you can prevent that from happening, Louis, you're a bloody miracle worker." The Englishman grumbled.

Kinch was about to say something, when the doors to the barracks opened with Klink sprinting in. He was out a breath and had a fist held up to his chest.

"You alright, Kommandant? You look like you just saw a ghost," Kinch said, raising an eyebrow.

Klink took a minute to catch his breath.

"I just got a call from Berlin. Colonel Hogan's condition has changed." Klink gasped.

"WHAT?!" The four of them shot up from their spots.

"Is he alright?" Carter worried.

"I don't know. Dr. Trommler would not go into specifics, but he said to come to the hospital at once!" Klink answered.

"Come on, guys!" Carter cried.

"Let's go," LeBeau said, anxious.

The four of them dashed out of the barracks and over to Klink's car.

"Wait! I didn't say all four of you could come! Schultz!" Klink bellowed, and started after the four prisoners headed towards his staff car.

Soon enough, after several persuasions and debating going back between Kinch and the Kommandant, the five of them had left Stalag 13 and were on their way to Berlin.

* * *

About four hours later, Klink and all four of Hogan's men arrived at the hospital in Berlin. They hurried out of the elevators to Hogan's floor and quickly scanned to see if they could find Dr. Trommler. The five of them ran up to the receptionist, Klink being ahead of his prisoners.

"Excuse me, _Fraulein_. I am Kommandant Klink of Stalag 13. You have a prisoner as one of your current patients, ah, Colonel Hogan." Klink flustered.

"I need a first name, Kommandant," the lady said flatly. She had black hair tied up into a bun and looked completely emotionless. Her voice told them she was irritated and just wanted to go home.

"Robert, ma'am. Robert Hogan," Newkirk said.

LeBeau leaned towards Kinch.

"She's no where _near_ as pretty as Barbara," he said softly. (1)

"I'm starting to think that's the only thing you ever think about." Kinch remarked.

As the lady started looking through several medical files, a young doctor walked out from behind the reception desk from what looked like doors entering into a large hallway headed towards the operating room.

"Dr. Trommler," Klink gasped. He hurried to the young doctor followed by Hogan's men. "How's Colonel Hogan?"

Dr. Johannes Trommler: a young doctor just out of medical school. He was about 6'1", had slick dark brown hair, and dark blue eyes. He was one of the best doctors in Germany and only 27 years old in age. His records with medicine and experience was impressive for anyone in their late twenties.

Hogan's men babbled, talking over one another in their rush to learn if Hogan was alright.

Trommler sternly hushed them.

"One at a time and keep your voices down. There are very sick people here trying to rest." He admonished.

"Sorry," all of Hogan's men said, hanging their heads in shame.

Klink looked at his prisoners briefly then back to Trommler.

"How is he, Dr. Trommler?" Klink begged to know.

The young man sighed, crossed his arms, and looked at the five before him. He noticed the four men behind Klink and turned to face them.

"Are you close with Mr. Hogan?" Trommler asked.

"We're his friends, mate." Newkirk answered softly.

Trommler nodded and gestured for them to follow him. Following orders, the four men trailed behind the young man, who stopped at the beginning of a long hallway. He took his pointer finger and pointed to his left at an angle.

"Go down this hallway and take the second right turn. You're gonna go down another hallway and make a left at the end. Mr. Hogan's room is E441." The young doctor spoke firmly.

"Thanks, Doc," Newkirk said.

"Come on, guys. Let's get going." Kinch answered.

The four of them walked speedily in the halls and after what felt like an hour's worth of a walk, Hogan's men arrived at their commanding officer's room. Kinch placed his hand on the door knob and was about to open the door, when Newkirk stopped him.

"Any of ya mention one thing about Walters, and I break your bleedin' neck." Newkirk hissed.

"Well, _that's_ a bit violent," LeBeau commented.

"Not in the mood, Louis."

Kinch shook his head and rolled his eyes. He looked back at the door knob and sighed. Once he prepared himself for whatever was behind the door, he turned the knob, heard a 'click', and slowly opened the door. The four of them looked inside and dropped their mouths slightly. They saw Hogan lying in bed connected to several wires and tubes. Both hands were placed on his middle, though his right one had the IV and gauze taped over it. He was looking at them, smiled barely, and waved at them with his right hand before putting it back on his still swollen belly.

All four of them grew grins on their faces.

"Colonel, you're awake," Kinch said.

Carter hurried in and ran towards Hogan. Once he reached his commanding officer, he gently hugged him. Hogan smiled tiredly and gently patted Carter's hand.

"Me next," LeBeau said, with enthusiasm. He walked to the American officer and repeated Carter's action.

Kinch stood at the foot of the colonel's bed, and Newkirk sat on Hogan's left side and smiled at him. The Englishman was glad to have his commanding officer back again.

"How are ya feelin', Gov'nor?" Newkirk asked softly.

Hogan swallowed before answering in a soft, raspy voice.

"Tired."

"Do you want us to leave, Colonel?" Kinch asked, worried he had disturbed Hogan's rest.

The American officer barely shook his head.

"No," he answered. "I want you guys here."

"Then we'll do just that, Colonel." LeBeau answered, with a smile.

"How long have you been awake, sir?" Kinch asked.

"About a few hours," Hogan said. He would tell them more of what happened when he woke up, but was so drowsy and exhausted, nothing made sense to him in his mind. He was still trying to remember what happened after he was shot. Nothing but a black gap filled his memories from the time he was shot up to the time he regained consciousness again. "How long...was I out?"

"A little over three weeks, Gov'nor. We were scared we were gonna lose you." Newkirk answered.

"Colonel, I've never been more scared in my life. When I thought we were gonna lose you, I…" Carter could not finish. He was starting to choke up.

Hogan noticed his youngest team member and smiled faintly.

"I'm gonna be just fine, Carter. Doctor says I could come home in about another week," Hogan said softly.

"Really?!" The young man cheered.

Hogan closed his eyes and smiled barely.

"Really."

"Boy, can I not wait for you to come back to camp!"

The colonel turned his head back to Kinch and looked at him through barely opened eyes.

"How's Walters?" He croaked.

"He's fine, sir. Don't worry about him, Colonel," Kinch said.

"You just focus on getting better, Gov'nor. Nothing more," Newkirk said, grinning.

"We got everything under control, sir." Carter added in.

"Good," Hogan said. "I'm glad to hear it."

"Colonel, I will make you the finest meal, when you come home," LeBeau praised.

The commanding officer smiled again.

"I'm afraid it'll have to be little, LeBeau. My belly here isn't ready for big meals." Hogan answered, patting his middle gently.

"Do you hurt, Colonel?" Carter asked, concerned.

Hogan shook his head faintly.

"No...I'm just a little sore is all."

There was a knock on the door, then it opened silently. Trommler walked into the room and approached his patient with a friendly smile.

"You doing alright, Papa Bear?" The young doctor asked.

The American officer sighed heavily.

"As good as can be, Johannes."

"Good," Trommler turned to look at Hogan's men. "Sorry with being hard on you, guys. Had to keep myself believable."

"It's all good, mate," Newkirk said.

"Hey, Dr. Trommler, is it true you know Richard?" Carter asked, curious.

"Which one?" The doctor asked, crossing his arms.

"There's more?!"

Hogan smiled at Carter, then turned to Trommler.

"Klaussner, Johannes. Dr. Richard Klaussner in Hammelburg." He clarified.

"Oh, yes. I'm good friends with Richard. Taught me everything I needed to know as his intern." The young man answered.

"Wow. You must be really good, if you know Richard," Carter said, impressed.

"Carter," Newkirk groaned.

Trommler chuckled softly.

"No, my friend, I'm afraid Dr. Klaussner will always be the better doctor. That man doesn't give up on anybody, until he's done absolutely everything known in medicine. Willing to travel out of the country to get better medicine and treatments, if it means saving one of his patients."

"Richard's a good doctor. An even better friend," Kinch said.

"I couldn't agree with you more, Kinch...that's you, right?" Trommler asked.

The radioman smirked.

"That's me. That's Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau."

" _Bonjour, mon ami_." LeBeau spoke, with a smile.

"Hi there," Carter said friendly.

"Pleasure to be acquainted, mate." Newkirk spoke courteously.

Hogan smiled with his eyes closed.

"These are my boys, Johannes," he gently said. Sleepiness was grasping him too much for his liking.

"Would you like some rest, Colonel?" Trommler asked, concerned.

"I don't want my men to leave," Hogan said, dozing off.

"You'll see them again real soon."

Hogan's eyes fluttered and soon enough fell asleep.

"Colonel," Carter said.

Nothing.

"Colonel?" Carter quivered.

"Don't worry, kid. I'd be concerned, if he wasn't so sleepy. He's on a very strong pain medication, as of now. I will reduce the dose once he's ready to be released, but he'll need another few days of rest. After that, he should be able to get back on his feet and do minor activities." Trommler spoke.

Newkirk sighed and looked at his commanding officer once more.

"Get some rest, Gov'nor. You deserve it. We'll see you again really soon."

"Sleep well, Colonel. We'll be alright until you can come home," Kinch said.

" _Bon soir, mon Colonel_. We will see you very soon," LeBeau said.

"Goodnight, Colonel. I'm glad to have you back, sir. I hope you're feeling better really soon." Carter spoke, smiling.

The four of them silently followed Trommler out the door and closed it behind them.

* * *

Hogan came home from the hospital about a week and a half later. He was welcomed back with smiling faces, pats on the shoulder, and several 'get well' cards made for him. Although flattered, he did not have enough energy to be awake for most of it. He slept a lot of his first days back in camp. When he was awake, LeBeau brought him in meals gradually getting bigger to help his stomach go back to normal, Kinch came in and discussed business regarding the underground and/or London, Newkirk amused him with jokes or stand up, or Carter sat by Hogan in his desk chair and just told him about how his day was going. Sometimes Hogan would just doze off while one of his men spoke with him, but knowing he was hearing them at least made them satisfied.

Another week went by, and Kinch, Newkirk, and Carter sat at the table while LeBeau made breakfast for them. Hogan was in his room resting.

"Boy, is it good to have Colonel Hogan home again," Carter said, cheerful.

"Sure do miss him when he's not around," Kinch said, smiling.

"I'm just glad things are back to normal around here." Newkirk replied.

Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau all turned to look at the Englishman with sympathetic looks. After a while, Newkirk grew irritated with all the stares at him.

"Alright, what is it?" He sneered.

"You've gotta tell Colonel Hogan about Walters, buddy," Carter said softly.

"He's gonna figure out something's up eventually, Newkirk." Kinch added.

" _Oui. Mon Colonel_ catches onto things quickly," LeBeau added.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt 'im." Newkirk answered.

"And when he _does_ find out?" Kinch asked.

"He _won't_...unless one of you is planning to rat me out."

"No one's ratting you out, Newkirk, but you've gotta tell him. The sooner, the better it'll be on you."

"I say we just carry on with our lives. Let's just act like the whole thing never happened."

Kinch looked at Carter, who exchanged the same look with him and sighed. Looks like they weren't talking Newkirk into it any time soon.

LeBeau shook his head sadly and continued with cooking breakfast.

The English corporal grabbed his cup of coffee, took a drink, then went back to socializing with the others, when the private quarters door opened, and Hogan came out into the main area. He was still slow with his pace and held his middle a lot of the time, but he was at least moving and back on his feet again. The American officer would have gone crazy had he'd been on bedrest any longer. He was dressed in his usual brown pants and shoes, khaki shirt, and his signature bomber jacket and crush cap.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Carter asked, concerned.

Hogan smiled small, while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"I'm feeling a lot better, Carter. Thank you," he said friendly. He turned to look at his men while holding his coffee cup. His facial expression became more serious and grew a puzzled look to him. "You know, I've been thinking a lot. I haven't seen or heard of Walters since I came home from the hospital. Where is he, anyways?" Hogan took a sip of his coffee.

The others all turned to Newkirk, who never took his eyes off his coffee. Slowly, he flexed a casual shoulder.

"Couldn't say."

"Oh?" Hogan inquired. "Why's that?"

Newkirk sipped his drink, putting on his best, card-winning poker face.

"Why waste my time with him?"

"Newkirk..." Kinch warned.

"I ain't cracking, mate! He's fine!" He took another drink of his coffee before speaking in a more civil tone of voice. "Now, if you excuse me, I have to go run an errand to the Kommandant."

He got to his feet and by the time he passed Hogan, he was making a run for the door. Kinch and LeBeau rushed over, making sure not to run over their commander, and held back the Englishman from making anymore movements. Panic was now overflowing in his eyes.

"Time's up, Newkirk. Start talking," Kinch said softly.

"He'll understand, _mon ami_!" LeBeau tried to comfort his friend, but the poor English corporal was mortified and kept squirming, hoping to break from their arms free.

"What's going on here?" Hogan asked, harsh. He put his coffee cup down and his left hand on his hip.

"Nothing, Gov'nor. Just making a quick errand to Klink is all," Newkirk said, feigning a smile. He tried another attempt of breaking free, but it proved worthless. "Kinch, let go of me!"

"Come on, Newkirk. Colonel Hogan was accepting, when I told him what happened between me and Walters. This should be _easy_!" Carter spoke, encouraging.

"Andrew, you were the victim in that situation! I could be bloody murdered for what I've done!" Newkirk yelped.

"Where's Walters, and that's an order!" Hogan demanded. He was losing his patience with his men.

Newkirk finally sighed and stopped trying to escape. Feeling confident he would not try an attempt to flee, Kinch and LeBeau let go of their friend. The Englishman looked over towards the door. Seeing the look in Newkirk's eyes, Kinch and LeBeau leaned against the door and blocked the way out. He then turned to look at the fake bunk leading into the tunnels. He was disappointed to see Carter and Baker blocking the entrance way and looking at him with sympathy.

Newkirk turned back to Kinch and LeBeau and swallowed hard.

" _Please_...don't make me do this, Kinch." He pleaded.

"He'll understand, Newkirk. Trust me on this," the sergeant said softly.

The Englishman sighed and turned to look at his commanding officer. Hogan was glaring hard at him and waiting for an answer that he was growing tired of not hearing.

"Alright, Gov'nor...you win," Newkirk said, surrendering.

"Where's...Walters?" Hogan snarled.

At first, the corporal in questioning was frozen. He did not know how to break the news to his commanding officer. He had been out of the loop for almost a month regarding Walters's death. Somewhere deep down inside him, he eventually found some courage and opened his mouth.

* * *

(1) Barbara Wagner is an underground agent and the niece of Major Hochstetter. LeBeau is madly in love with her, but it irritates Newkirk that his friend is in love with someone related to Hochstetter. Her first appearance is in my story 'Hogan's Heroes: Finding the Silver Lining".


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** I'm sad to say this story is coming to an end. One more chapter after this! Hope everyone enjoys my last couple installments of this story! Leave reviews! They are encouraged! :D

* * *

 **Chapter 25:**

"You see, sir, it all started after you went into your coma. As you probably figured out once waking up again, you were no longer in camp and transferred to another hospital in Berlin." Newkirk began.

"Yes, that's what Klink told me, when he came to visit me a few days before I came home." Hogan answered calmly. His eyes held impatience in them and was looking firmly at his English corporal.

"After you were taken to Berlin, Kinch, Louis, Andrew, and I started cooking a plan to get rid of Walters. We had to make him suffer, Gov'nor. After what he did to ya- we almost lost you because of him! He had to be punished."

Hogan did not answer. He continued to glare at Newkirk with cold eyes and a dead serious look glued to his face.

Newkirk swallowed and continued.

"That's when things started to get...ugly."

"I'm listening, go on," Hogan said coolly.

"We had a plan all ready to go for Klink to see Walters was bloody balmy and have him sent away. We did not catch it soon enough, but Walters apparently had a new idea in his mind...sir, he...he tried to kill Klink, Colonel."

"He WHAT?!"

"He wanted to take control over the entire camp. Being Senior POW Officer wasn't enough for him. He craved to be the one in control and wanted to dominate even the guards here. Walters got close enough to Klink and once he had him by the hook, he wrapped one arm around his neck and used the other one to put a knife to his neck. He must have smuggled it into camp somehow." Kinch clarified.

"Considering Klink came to the hospital several times, I assume Walters was not successful in murdering our beloved Kommandant," Hogan said dryly.

"No, sir...he was not," the radioman said.

"So, where is he now? I'm getting tired of repeating myself!" Hogan answered, making it clear he was reaching his limit.

Newkirk closed his eyes and fought back a fit of panic from taking over. He opened them, stared at the ceiling, then lowered his head again to look at Hogan.

"I just wanted him to drop the knife, Colonel," Newkirk quivered. "Just so we could get Klink away from him." He shook his head and closed his eyes. He was not sure if he had the courage to tell Hogan the truth. He was horrified of releasing the wrath of Colonel Hogan. When Hogan lost his anger, _no one_ got away from being yelled at.

"Where is he, Newkirk?!" Hogan barked.

"I…" Newkirk fought back from the tears that threatened him. "Killed him, sir." He croaked.

Hogan's face grew a light pink and snapped his attention to Kinch and LeBeau, his eyes filled with daggers.

"It was an accident, Colonel! We swear!" LeBeau pleaded.

"Newkirk was just trying to get Walters to drop the knife." Kinch added.

The American officer returned his furious glare to Newkirk.

"Gov'nor, I was trying to aim for a leg or an arm...I _never_ meant to hurt him, Gov'nor, I swear!" The Englishman begged for mercy.

"How did this happen?" Hogan demanded.

Kinch and LeBeau walked away from the door and stood beside their friend.

"Colonel, it was a 'fight or flight' incident. Newkirk did the first thing that came to his mind. Schultz happened to be standing near us when it happened. He grabbed Schultz's rifle and tried aiming for one of Walters's arms or legs to get him to drop the knife away from Klink's neck...it just got aimed a little too high than it needed to be," LeBeau said.

"There was no way of saving him, Colonel. Joe said he died instantly. The bullet went straight clear through his aorta in the heart. Went right in between his sternum." Kinch added softly.

Newkirk sulked and made his way to his footlocker.

"What do you think you're doing, Corporal?" Hogan hissed.

"I'm packing me things together...I assume I'll be on a plane headed back for London in a few days to face a firing squad for me crime." Newkirk answered softly.

"Newkirk, don't do that. We don't know for certain." Carter begged.

"Andrew, I've committed a fragging. It's the highest crime to commit in a war. I'm sorry, mate. Looks like you'll have to find yourself another safe cracker," he said sadly and continued packing his things.

"Colonel, don't send Pierre back to London. It was an accident, we swear!" LeBeau explained.

Hogan let a deep breath out and looked at all four of his men.

"You guys could've gotten killed. You could've exposed our entire operation!" He snarled.

"And had Walters killed Klink, our operation _would_ have been exposed." Kinch replied.

"It wasn't Newkirk's fault, Colonel. He was just trying to save Klink." Carter spoke sadly.

"And how do you think General Burkhalter's gonna react, when he hears just that in a few days? He's gonna grow curious as to why a prisoner saved a German's life." Hogan remarked angrily.

"You can persuade him, Colonel. You know how to convince General Burkhalter otherwise. You always know how to do it." LeBeau begged.

Hogan turned to look at Newkirk, who was sadly packing his things and fearing what was coming for him. His face softened and sighed. Newkirk, after all, had saved Walters from discovering the operation. He saved Klink, so a new and better Kommandant had not been sent to take over Stalag 13. He saved all the other prisoners from further torment and manslaughter. The colonel sighed again softly.

"Alright, Newkirk; let me see what I can do," Hogan said. He slowly made his way to the fake bunk and tapped the mechanism. Once the tunnel entrance had been exposed, Hogan carefully made his way down the ladder and to the radio room.

The four of Hogan's men all sat down at the table growing anxious.

"What now?" Carter asked, worried.

"Now...we wait," Newkirk said, shaky.

* * *

The next two hours were the longest two hours Hogan's men ever had to endure. Hogan had not returned from the radio room since leaving to argue Newkirk's case to the Allied High Command. They wondered whether that was a good sign or a bad one.

"What's taking the Gov'nor so bloody long? I'm losing me bloody mind!" Newkirk cried.

"Perhaps the Colonel's having good luck with London and are talking about giving you an award," Kinch suggested.

"I highly doubt it, but thanks, mate," the Englishman lamented.

"I sure hope Colonel Hogan can convince them otherwise. I don't want Newkirk to die. He saved us from what could have ended in a disaster!" Carter pleaded.

"I'm not too crazy over dying meself, Andrew," Newkirk said, grim.

The four of them heard the fake bunk open. Hogan slowly climbed out of the tunnel holding his belly gently and closed the entrance. He walked over to his men and looked at them with no expression to his face.

Newkirk, LeBeau, Kinch, and Carter sat there staring at their commanding officer, waiting for an answer from him.

"Well?!" Carter exclaimed, not able to handle the silence any longer.

Hogan turned to look at Newkirk, who was looking at his commanding officer with mercy in his eyes. The colonel grew a soft smile on his face.

"Newkirk's only punishment is remaining here until the war's over," Hogan said.

"Really?!" LeBeau cried, smiling boldly.

"They also want to commemorate Newkirk for saving the lives of over a thousand prisoners here in Stalag 13 and the life of the operation. General Berkman says Newkirk's conspicuous gallantry medal should be here in about a week or so." Hogan spoke proud, looking at Newkirk beaming.

Carter, LeBeau, and Kinch all cheered and congratulated their friend with pats on the backs.

"Boy, what an honor, buddy!" Carter cried.

" _Oui! C'est très magnifique_ ," LeBeau said joyously. (1)

Hogan then turned to Carter, his face growing a bit brighter.

"Carter, I also told them what had happened to Captain Fischer and what Walters made you go through because of that night. They're going to award Fischer with the Medal of Honor for the sacrifice he made to save the men under his command," the colonel said softly.

The young sergeant's face brightened hearing such news.

"Really, Colonel?" He asked.

"Even naming a memorial site after him in London." Hogan answered.

Carter's eyes watered up, but his face shined like the sun. After all this time hiding all his feelings of fear, sadness, grief, and frustration, his late commander had finally got his justice. It was officially over; Fischer had finally won.

Kinch smiled at Carter, then turned to Newkirk.

"Looks like your act took a different turn, Newkirk," he said, smiling.

Newkirk blushed and hung his head.

"Alright, knock it off, all of yah." The Englishman spoke, grinning.

It was not until LeBeau gasped abruptly that the celebration for Newkirk and Carter ended.

"Colonel, what about General Burkhalter?"

"Oh yeah. He's coming in a few days to talk with Klink about Walters's death," Kinch said, crossing his arms.

"What are we gonna do, Colonel?" Carter asked, worried.

Hogan grinned and crossed his arms.

"Don't worry, LeBeau. I got a plan up my sleeve for good old Burkhalter," he said, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

* * *

"Lieutenant Walters tried to kill you?!" Burkhalter gasped. The Luftwaffe general had arrived early two days after that and was listening to Klink tell him more regarding the death of his late prisoner.

"I have no idea how he managed to smuggle in a knife, _Herr General_. Surely Major Hochstetter would have found every weapon on him." Klink answered.

"Major Hochstetter couldn't find himself out of a paper bag, Klink! This is the man, after all, who has a continuous obsession with your Senior POW Officer."

The old Kommandant nodded.

"Yes. General Burkhalter. You make an excellent point, sir."

"Klink, stop your babbling."

"Yes, _Herr General_."

Burkhalter paced Klink's office thinking to himself. After a while, the big general turned to face the German colonel again.

"Klink, just how exactly did Lieutenant Walters die during this?"

"General Burkhalter, he was shot. I thought I told you that."

"Well then, what's the name of the guard who shot him?"

The Kommandant swallowed a lump in his throat, his face growing hot with fear.

"The guard who shot him?" He trembled.

"Yes, Klink, _who_ shot Lieutenant Walters?"

Klink paused and simply stared at his commanding officer. Did he dare tell him Newkirk had been the one to save his life? How would Burkhalter react to knowing one of his prisoners were the one that had been to pick up one of the guards' guns while Walters was distracted and shot and killed by that same prisoner? Come to think of it, he, too, wondered why Newkirk had saved his life. Why would a prisoner of war have any intentions on saving the enemy?

Klink was about to answer, when the door to his office opened, and Hogan walked in. The American saluted him and made himself comfy in the chair underneath Hitler's portrait hanging on the wall.

"Hogan! What are you doing here?!" Klink bellowed.

Burkhalter turned to give Hogan his attention.

"Colonel Hogan," he said. "I have heard you were recently discharged from the hospital. How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright, sir," Hogan said, crossing his legs.

"What are you doing in here, Hogan?" Klink growled softly.

"I'm here on behalf of the men here in Stalag 13. I have been informed of what took place while I was in the hospital." The American answered.

"What exactly were you told, Hogan?" Burkhalter questioned.

"Walters was able to get close enough to the Kommandant to grab a hold of him and put a knife to his neck. He threatened everyone in the compound at the time that if anyone tried anything, Kommandant Klink would be murdered."

"What else, Hogan?"

"Yeah, what else?" Klink asked, curious.

"Considering that the Kommandant's life was on the line, Corporal Langenscheidt grabbed his rifle while Walters was distracted making threats to Kommandant Klink. He was then able to fire his gun safely without the risk of the Kommandant getting hurt. He meant to aim for a ligament of Lieutenant Walters's, but had his gun too high up and shot the lieutenant in the heart killing him instantly." Hogan turned to Klink while saying this, trying to send a message to him with his eyes.

He seemed to catch it and nodded after it registered in his brain.

"Absolutely, General Burkhalter! Corporal Langenscheidt was very brave in his actions, sir!"

"So, it was Corporal Langenscheidt who saved you, huh?" Burkhalter asked himself.

"Did a good deed for a fellow German. Personally, I would have let Walters go ahead with it," Hogan was cut off by Klink.

"Hogan!"

"Sorry, sir."

"Klink, Corporal Langenscheidt is to be awarded for his excellency in saving a fellow soldier for the Fatherland. I am off to Berlin, now. I have many papers to go over." Burkhalter replied, putting on his cap.

"Of course, General Burkhalter. Pleasure again seeing you, sir," Klink said, smiling like a goon.

"I wish I could say the same thing, Klink."

Both Germans saluted each other, then Burkhalter made his exit. Once he was gone, Klink rose to his feet and hurried over to Hogan.

"Hogan, what did you just do?! You lied to General Burkhalter and told him Corporal Langenscheidt shot Walters, when Newkirk was the one who did it!" Klink cried.

"Kommandant, if you would have told General Burkhalter that Newkirk had been the one that killed Lieutenant Walters, he would then question how a prisoner got a hold of a gun. Not only would Newkirk be punished, but you would be as well," Hogan said.

"Impossible...how?"

"You would be held responsible for letting a prisoner get a hold of a weapon. General Burkhalter would have had you packing your bags and headed to the Russian Front before you could get a chance to explain yourself."

"Now that you say that, it does make a lot of sense."

"This way, Corporal Langenscheidt gets an award for being a good German soldier, and you keep your job here as Kommandant."

"But why would you want to protect _me_ , Hogan?"

"Kommandant, you don't need to ask that question."

"I don't?"

"Course not. How else are we gonna escape out of camp so easily, if you're not here?"

Klink let out a deep breath and his face grew a light shade of pink.

"OUT!" The old Kommandant hollered.

Hogan saluted sloppy and walked out of Klink's office.

* * *

(1) " _Oui! C'est très magnifique_!" - "Yes! It is very magnificent!"


	26. Epilogue

**Chapter 26:**

Three months went by since Walters died. It was a warm sunny day, and outside barracks two, Carter was sitting next to Hogan on the bench. The colonel had his legs crossed, leaning against the wall of the barracks with a hand on his belly, as Carter talked to him about the recent events that had taken place in the past three months.

"It's just so weird, Colonel. I can't believe I never have to worry about Lieutenant Walters again," the young sergeant said, shocked. He still could not come to terms with that his old commanding officer was never going to traumatize, antagonize, and manipulate him ever again.

"It'll take some time to get used to," Hogan said, turning to look at him.

"It's just sad he had to die, though. I mean he was an awful guy, but he could have at least gone to a psychiatric hospital or something."

"It _is_ sad, Carter, but if Newkirk hadn't killed him, Klink wouldn't be here, the operation would be gone, even _I_ might not be sitting here right now."

The young man looked back at the ground.

"Guess you're right, Colonel...boy, I don't know what I would've done had you not made it through your coma."

Hogan smirked.

"Come on, Carter. You think I would leave you four to handle things yourself?"

The sergeant gave a small grin.

"No, I guess not, sir."

Hogan smiled back and patted Carter's shoulder gently, when Newkirk, LeBeau, and Kinch walked over towards the two of them.

The colonel smiled, seeing Newkirk still wearing his medal for bravery and gallantry on saving the prisoners and the operation from Walters. He had not removed it since receiving it in the mail three months ago.

"How's it going there, Mr. Conspicuous Gallantry?" He asked, grinning.

Newkirk merely blushed.

"Just fine, Gov'nor," he said.

"I wish I had a conspicuous gallantry award," LeBeau said sadly. His face suddenly lightened up and filled with excitement. "What if I killed Major Hochstetter?!"

"No," The other four simultaneously said.

LeBeau grumbled something under his breath in French.

"Well," Newkirk said. "It _would_ give us one less Kraut to worry about."

Hogan chuckled and shook his head.

"Well," LeBeau started. "I'm starving. Who wants lunch?"

"Me," all of them said.

All five men walked into the barracks, sat down at the table, and talked with one another while they waited for lunch. Things were finally back to normal...in Stalag 13, at least.


End file.
